


In our time of Beginnings

by Shehanitan



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Hand Jobs, Hearing Voices, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-01 05:06:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14513190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shehanitan/pseuds/Shehanitan
Summary: Following mixed events from the movies, Peter is back as Spider-Man and has had the misfortune of meeting both Venom and Deadpool...While struggling with the grief and guilt of losing his loved ones, Deadpool causes him to question his reality. What makes a person truly bad and evil? How do you draw the line and where do you draw it? Is killing ever justified? Is a mercenary always bad?Who's Deadpool truly and do Peter want what he offers?





	1. Is This Your Kink?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel to a story I started writing first. I realized I needed more of a backstory to that story so I made this. It is finished at 10 chapters but needs some finishing touches and as good as I can error checking. I'll upload as I manage to go through them.
> 
> I read the comics a hundred years ago. I base Peter Parker on the character from the movies "The Amazing Spider-Man". I loosely base the storyline surrounding the Marvel cinematic universe and mix in a choice of events and characters from the comics.
> 
> While this prequel is pretty tame by my standards; the sequel won't be.
> 
> There is one chapter that will be heavy on the grief and it will be simply labeled Grief so you can steer clear if you're sensitive.
> 
> *Edit 10/5 - All lyrics in the story is obviously not my own. But at the time of writing the story, I forgot to note down what artist the lyrics belong to. Some I simply found because I needed specific lyrics and has never heard the tune itself.
> 
> Deadpools comrades:
> 
> : : White insane voice box : :
> 
> * * Yellow logic reasonable dystrophic box * *

"Is this, like, one of your kinks?“ Deadpool asked amusedly.

 

He was hanging upside down from the edge of an overhanging roof, completely wrapped in a web like a cocoon. He was very slowly twisting around. The red and blue arachnid was sitting on the wall facing him and he resembled a very pissed, drenched cat.

 

“Stop following me around!” Spider-Man hissed and yes the cat resemblance was uncanny.

 

“Huh? Who's following anyone? Ah! Are you thinking of little old me!?” Wade squealed in delight and he swore Spidey rolled his eyes.

 

“Why are you following me?”

 

“Who wouldn't follow that ass anywhere? Seriously, just want an autograph… and maybe dinner and a movie or a coffee. Hey! We could go to the taco place a bit over, my treat, we can even stay up on the roof… mrf!”

 

His mouth was webbed shut. Like his whole bottom half was wrapped in a tight web. Thanks to the mask his nose was still clear.

 

: : Rude! : : happy squeal.

 

* * Deserved... * * Dry observation.

 

Aw, it wasn't the first time but this time he might not be able to get loose as easily. Spidey was getting good at wrapping him up. A slender yet strong hand grabbed the front of his suit and easily pulled him up until they were eye-level-ish(what with Deadpool being upside down and all).

 

“Stay the fuck off my trail or I'll hurt you bad,” the man growled.

 

: : Gwahahahaha!!! : :

 

* * He could potentially break us into so many small pieces we might not be able to heal from that... * *

 

Deadpool actually chuckled. He tried telling the little hero that the day he hurt Deadpool “bad” was the day the sun didn't rise.

 

“Think I won't? I'll take those ridicules swords of yours and you'll never see them again. You won't know if I melted them or broke them apart or threw them away or sold them. After that I'll take every bloody weapon you ever carry, I'll find where you live and I'll clean it out and I will keep cleaning it out while hunting down every bloody client you get in contact with and make sure they chose another mercenary.“

 

Deadpool’s eyes widened and he groaned as he got an instant hard-on. Actually, the threat and the tone of delivery sounded more serious than he'd ever heard from Spidey and it actually sent a thrill of fear/challenge down his spine to his groin.

 

: : Me want to fuck. Now. Think he'd ride us still being webbed up? What if he played with 'ur guns? : :

 

White provided a graphic image of Wade's precious guns deep in that spandex dressed ass and it was making his hard-on uncomfortable.

 

* * I think we should pay serious attention here... * *

 

I'll let you handle my guns any day you want as long as I get to watch. Deadpool intended to say but it was more of a:

 

"Mrf mfa grgf mur!!"

 

He chuckled again and grinned widely. That changed as his beloved hero actually grabbed both swords and slid them lose as he let Deadpool swing free. Without a second word or glance, the arachnid started crawling up to the roof.

 

Spidey?

 

"Mpuri?"

 

: : He's leaving? : :

 

* * ... * *

 

They watched as Spider-Man crawled over the edge of the roof and then... Nothing. He hung there staring wide-eyed as he swayed back and forth and around. It passed enough time for him to realize his blue and red spandex hero wasn't coming back. Wade cursed and yelled. Hell no! He was not serious. He couldn't be serious! What the fuck!

 

He struggled in the webs for who knew how long. He was spinning until he felt nauseous and had to rest for a moment. We'll fuck. Seemed he'd have to wait for the decay of the silly, stupid, kinky as hell, webs.

 

: : Maybe he's still waiting up there : : White whined.

 

* * He's long gone and he's dumping our swords in the east river, good fuck-up you slob * *

 

: : No way! He wouldn't really do that! He's Spider-man! : :

 

Spidey couldn't be serious. He was joking. Yet Wade's gut clenched not knowing where his beloved blades where.

 

After long enough the webs softened enough for him to get his hands on a knife. With some acrobatics, he managed to get loose while keeping a grip on the webs to climb up.

 

He was cursing muffled profanities once on the roof. He still cursed as he managed to cut off the webs over his mask that was muffling him.

 

“Fuck!” he roared to the empty roof.

 

Of course, there were no signs of the spider and he kicked at a wall hard enough to fracture his toes.

 

"Motha' fucking shit for brains cock-sucking shit eating donkey face!" he continued as he jumped on one foot for a while as it healed.

 

Panic was making his chest constrict. No way, no way, no way!

 

: : Did we piss him off that much? But we didn't even do anything! : : White wailed.

 

* * ... * *

 

Wade kept cursing as he stalked across the roof back and forth, rubbing his hand over his head. Damn, now he had to find the arachnid and then he'd lose the rest of his weapons. Something glinted a couple roofs over and he stiffened. Was that?

 

: : Sword? Spidey! He'd just been teasing! : :

 

* * Or a well-aimed automatic machine gun ready to tear us apart. Would be fitting... * *

 

Wade sprinted across the roofs and he laughed in slight relief. From beneath a water, cistern hung…one of his swords in a web. He caught the swirling blade and cut it lose as he looked around. After cleaning it off as well as he could and kissing it affectionately, he put it back in its place and looked around. Maybe the second one was on another roof?

 

*****  
  
He was crushed. He was mortally wounded. Sorrow so black and deep it gutted him was carving a hole in his stomach. Or that could also be hunger. Three hours of fruitless searching had Deadpool returning home with a single sword.

 

: : I don't get it... He was actually serious? : : White whimpered.

 

* * Moron. Idiot. Shit for brains. Of course he was! He's tired of your lecherous ass trailing him everywhere! We've roughed up stalkers for less! * *

 

Wade tuned out the voices, depressed and tired and hungry and truly feeling like a filthy, old, bald stalker. Perhaps he'd really gone too far although he'd had the feeling Spider-Man had been game many times too. He was strong enough to give Wade the beating of his life if he got really pissed off.

 

* * Only an idiot pervert lecher like you can't take a verbal no * * Yellow snapped and Wade actually flinched at that.

 

He dragged himself into his so-called bedroom as he shed weapons, belt, and katana. He dragged off his mask before dumping himself heavily on the bed. Maybe if he bought like a ton of... of... something and bribed the arachnid and begged on his knees he could get his sword back. Probably had to write a contract of never getting within 500 yards of the man too.

 

* * Yeah because that always stops stalking rapists. Good thing he's as strong as he is so he can kick your stalking nuts next time he sees you * *

 

: : Spidey's just in a bad mood. He wasn't serious : : White whined.

 

"Shut up!" Wade snarled and put a pillow over his face in a try to suffocate himself.

 

While shooting his brains out was always the quickest most effective; most blessed way of getting a moment of quiet, he'd tried other methods. He threw the pillow away with a gush of breath. Suffocation had never really worked.

 

*****  
  
The night had been spent tossing and turning and pacing the apartment and then finally somewhere during dawn he'd fallen asleep. New York was blaring and honking and wide awake when Wade next came around. The voices were soon bickering. White was still jumping from wailing unhappy to raging mad while yellow didn't miss a second of telling them exactly how worthless and idiotic they were and justice had been served way too gently.

 

He shuffled through the apartment towards the kitchen. Perhaps a cold coke crushed against his head would make him feel better. Something reflecting caught his eyes just before he entered the kitchen and he looked over to a window.

 

: : ... : :

 

* * ... * *

 

"..."

 

Outside his living room window hung his sword in a string of web. Twirling and swaying a bit in the breeze that was bound to happen 20 stores up.

 

: : Spidey! : :

 

* * I'm so disappointed. He should fly us... * *

 

Wade rushed across the living room and jumped clear across the sofa before slamming the window open and grabbing the precious blade. Without thinking of his unmasked face he stuck his head out and looked around. He didn't expect to see any blue and red spandex guy and he didn't.

 

"I knew he wasn't serious!" he chirped happily as he tugged the blade inside and cut it free with its own edge.

 

The blade came with a note and he opened it eagerly.

 

                      _I know where you live. Behave._

                                            _Spider-Man_

 

: : Squeee!!! We have a stalker spider! : :

 

* * This is actually disturbing; birds for brain. He's serious. Don't mess up again * *

 

Wade was grinning like a lunatic as he caressed the letter written in firm, beautiful handwriting. He folded it carefully before kissing his sword.

 

" Ah, he loves us," he grinned.

 

: : ...For her lips were the colors of roses!  : :

 

* * We should keep our distance... * *

 

: :  On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow!!   : :

 

"Tacos. I'll buy a heap of them. And flowers and a teddy bear and a big card saying sorry!" Wade hummed happily as he went about cleaning himself up.

 

: :  ...I kissed her goodbye and said all beauty must die!!   : :

 

* * Thinks white's being a bit too manic. Are you sure he doesn't want our Spidey dead? * * Yellow asked frostily to which White laughed manically.

 

"As if he can do anything about it," Wade muttered.

 

"He's just a voice and so's you and both shut up for once!"

 

*:*: RUDE!! *:*:

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short. Sweet? Fun?
> 
> I'd appreciate any comment you'd throw my way. What're your thoughts about these two? What will happen? Is something unclear? What's your overall feeling after having read this chapter? Throw me a line!
> 
> Have a nice day :)


	2. The Hell?

"The hell?" Spider-Man muttered as he swung by a tall building.

At the top was a painfully familiar red and black leather dressed moron. Sitting beside him on the roof was a huge basket with balloons tied to the handle. He saw something looking disturbingly like roses. The mercenary was waving and jumping, obviously wanting the hero's attention.

"For fuck's sake!" he snarled.

He swung around the house a couple times as he debated how to go about this. He hadn't really thought, even if he'd hoped, that his threat a week ago would hit home. Perhaps he should have just kept the damn swords for longer but; He hadn't wanted to give the man a reason to track him. He sat himself on the wall of the building next over and the mercenary kept waving and shouting something. No doubt encouragements to come over.

Peter had to admit he somewhat regretted his rash actions back then. He’d been angry and stressed out and feeling *chased* and cornered by the mercenary. So he’d lashed out and he really regretted succumbing to his emotions like that. It always got you in trouble, but at the same time he didn't want to encourage Deadpool, whatever his game was. So apologize but make it blatantly clear the attention was unwanted? He sighed before he easily swung over.

He landed on the edge of the roof, staying in his hunched position at his toes, legs bent firmly and fingertips resting at the edge for added balance. It was still a flight or fight move. He was really fast and strong from this position. Weather for attack or escape.

What if Deadpool simply ignored his warnings and explanation of boundaries?  
He didn't want to beat Deadpool to a pulp. He was scared that might be the only way to keep him at arms length. Or it would completely make him a new enemy. In either case he didn’t want it. He didn’t want to beat someone up just because they trailed after him shouting sexual innuendos and persisted in aiding him without being asked. He wasn’t a homophobe, nowhere close. He also didn't want yet another enemy.

Peter started to fully understand girls who moaned about having this or that boy chasing them around everywhere. It was exhausting and unnerving.

"Hiya Spidey-baby! Thanks for my darlin's!" Deadpool said happily as he was skipping/strutting/walking closer.

The high energy and quick approach of such a deadly man automatically made him anxious. Peter tensed, his eyes narrowed, his nerves were already frayed as it was. Something must have alerted the mercenary because he stopped dead in his track and actually reached up to grab his swords.

"Whoa! Whoa! Look! Cool! Right? Just wanted to apologize!"

Spider-Man slowly arched a eyebrow and tilted his head while he stayed down. Apologize? Deadpool? He stayed quiet, not entirely sure how to deal with that possibility. He hadn't even entertained the idea that Deadpool would apologize.

"Sorry for being such a bother, alright? I seriously, seriously dig you. You're my hero, sorry for going too far," Deadpool rambled, still holding his swords.

"Got a basket with like... every I'm sorry item I could find and um.. tacos, like lots of tacos and Coke and water because maybe you didn't like Coke and, and I'll just fade to the background somewhere and won't bother you again? Please don't take my swords?"

Peter found himself relaxing. Not because he was particularly trusting the merc's words but because he was too tired not too. With Venom still at large, with a ever growing population of super freaks and superheroes and half of them wanting him hurt or dead and the other half suspicious of his very nature and Harry and Gwen… He was strung tight.

Add on top of that a infamous mercenary that had suddenly started trailing him and showering him with an attention and a affection that freaked him out to no ends... Yeah he was tired.

Obviously he either had to go through with his threat; which probably wouldn't get rid of Deadpool, or he had to call his slight bluff and hope Deadpool might grow bored and move on already.

"Hey, you ok Spidey?"

Peter flinched. Deadpool had suddenly come way closer and Peter had relaxed back on his haunches. The man was actually bent over at the hips to get them more eye level. He still held his hands on the handles of his swords. Peter exhaled deeply. Maybe just forgive and forget and they could go their separate ways?

"Tacos?" he asked wearily and immediately Deadpool straightened like a cartoon figure.

"Tacos, Tacos, Tacos! You'll love these baby boy!" he said enthusiastically as he went back to the basket.

Peter hesitated. Maybe he’d been too hasty in accepting this apology? He'd been offered food before. Always bloody tacos. He liked tacos fine but eating with… with Deadpool? Felt surreal. His silence was taken as agreement and the Merc came back with the huge basket. Peter blinked. There was indeed red roses, a teddy bear that held a pillow with the words "I'm sorry", a gift card with the same words and blue violets. Together with the colorful balloons.

Deadpool put the basket between them on the ledge and swung his legs over the edge. Slowly Peter turned on his toes, still hesitant. His stomach growled though. He wasn't sure when he'd last eaten more than a sandwich on the run.

"Won't look, bro code!" Deadpool chirped as he rearrange the balloons perfectly to act as a barrier between their faces.

Obviously he slid his mask up enough to eat. His legs was kicking rhythmically and he was humming some tune. Peter rubbed his forehead and momentarily closed his eyes. Would it mean anything at all if he accepted Tacos from Deadpool? It wouldn't automatically make him evil or a villain or even accepting of the man's profession. His stomach rumbled again. It would, however, feed him.

Finally he settled and slid his own mask up far enough to eat. Yes the taco's were great and he could endure the company for them.

"…She asked who I had cheated with whom and I said baby girl, I don't cheat, I just pissed someone off for other reasons…" Deadpool continued happily.

Peter listened with half an ear to everything the merc said. He was explaining how he'd bought the basket and every now and then jumped topic to how roses grew and how they had been breed during decades, back to tacos, back to Coke and how the original formula was so changed by now it shouldn't even be called Coke back to how teddy bears were fucking fantastic cuddly pillows if they were the right size.

Peter had never really been truly annoyed with the mercs never-ending waterfall of words. Either drowning it out or smacking him shut or swinging away or joining in the banter. So perhaps this situation was partly his own fault for sometimes indulging Deadpool instead of making a firm line that shouldn’t be crossed? Ah, it just made him feel even more guilty about his behavior. He soon sat down properly, feet kicking over the ledge as tension started to drain from him.

He could bet a million that few people found the merc’s waterfall mouth to be soothing. Peter liked to listen to others talk. It deflected attention from himself. It was easy to listen to the merc since he seldom stopped for the other to actually respond.

"So…you in trouble somehow?"

Peter blinked at the sudden shift of focus. He chewed and glanced at the balloons, waiting for more. Deadpool was silent though. Huh? Serious question?

"I'm sitting at the edge of a roof eating Tacos with Deadpool, what do you think?" he snarked lightly. However the merc laughed amusedly.

"That's not trouble, baby boy, that’s free food. No I mean trouble like Green-Goblin-party or why not another invasion or maybe a someone’s-trying-to-kill-me-in-a-permanent-way trouble," the man said happily.

Peter frowned and rubbed his forehead again. Was there another way of killing someone not permanently?

"I'm trying to find someone and you being up in my space all the time isn't helping," he said in a half growl.

It got quiet on the other side of the balloons and Deadpool's legs paused for a while. The brunet sighed and he rubbed his forehead again. Ah, now he felt even worse. Despite the mercenary being who he was he'd yet to actually try and hurt Peter. Being annoying didn't count. Just as he was about to apologize for his words, Deadpool spoke up.

"Huh? Could have told me that sooner, I'll help!" The merc said happily and his feet were kicking again.

Peter stiffened and lowered his hand a little.

"You'll... help?"

"Sure! I'm good at finding people. Especially people who doesn't wanna be found," the man chuckled.

"So is it a long lost lover? A pissed off ex? A psycho murdering kangaroo?"

"He calls himself Venom," Peter said shortly and lowly.

He wasn't sure Deadpool even knew of him. This was so new and recent it was mindboggling. Peter sighed and closed his eyes momentarily. He'd found Eddie, Venom, twice after the bonding and he was scared Eddie wasn't even fighting the symbiote. Maybe he wasn't even aware of the horrible hold it had on him. Peter was guilty. Enough to leave him sleepless and nauseous. He had to help Eddie. Somehow. That thing would eat him alive. Who knew, maybe Peter's powers had helped him resist it, what would that space-goo do to a normal human being? It had obviously copied and strengthened whatever abilities Peter had possessed.

"Huh? Is that the big black guy you fought a couple weeks ago?" Deadpool asked with a new tone of seriousness.

Peter was silent for a while and glanced at the balloons.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" he asked and finished his taco.

There had been no media coverage of it. He wasn't sure anyone had actually gotten a photo or movie of Venom the way they had caught Peter in that blissful short symbiotic stage.

"Don't you realize yet? I'm your stalker!" Deadpool said happily and kicked his legs.

"You're not supposed to say that to your victim, it will freak them out," he retorted dryly.

"Do you have a brother? Because I swear he moved almost exactly like you and the web too. Although you looked much better in the black suit, did you guys have a falling out? Did you steal his design ideas? If you have a brother are you looking the same? Because man... that's material for spanking," Deadpool whined.

Peter reflexively reached around the balloons and smacked the back of the man's head.

"Seriously, I will push you off this ledge," he growled, still annoyed with the man.

Deadpool pushed the balloons down and looked manically happy.

"You'd catch me though, wouldn't you? You're not the kind to actually let me drop all the way down."

"I can work on my policies just for you..." Spider-Man growled.

He lost his appetite or maybe ten tacos was his limit. He drank some of the water.

"I don't have a brother and Venom is complicated."

"Alright, I'll help. Tell you when I get some leads," Deadpool said off-handedly and leaned back, letting the balloons float up again.

"No thanks, can't afford you and I have no wish to be associated needlessly with a mercenary," Peter groused.

"Aw! I'm hurt! Truly! I'd never make you pay Spidey-boy!" The merc whined.

Peter sighed again and gazed at New York City for a while as the merc hummed some tune and finished the remaining tacos. He'd been contemplating getting help with this case. He just wasn't sure how. Eddie and Peter were too closely connected. A smart person could draw conclusions he didn't want. Unless he was really careful about it.

Deadpool suddenly burped and stretched before shuffling the basket aside to leave the ledge free between them. Spider-Man glanced over and he'd tensed again. However Deadpool simply rested his hands on the ledge and stared out across the city too, legs still swaying a bit.

"I'll track him for you, if you want help during the confrontation just tell me. See it as payback for giving me my swords back," he said lowly.

Peter snorted and could feel the merc watching him.

"You weren't serious right..?"

"Completely," Peter deadpanned.

The merc chipped for breath.

"Seriously! You can't throw them in the river!" he said shrilly.

"No, I'd sell them obviously," Peter said and rolled his eyes.

He wasn't that stupid even if he had really considered that for a moment. Deadpool made a noise from agony and his hands had inched back up to stroke the handles of the katanas.

"So... payback..?"

"I don't want him dead and you're a killer," Spider-Man said shortly.

"Is so not! Fine I'm a merc but we do more than just kill!"

"Yeah, like?"

"Saving kittens!"

"Kittens?" Peter asked dubiously with a eyebrow arched.

"Yup, kittens from trees. Kittens from laundry baskets, kittens from sad-looking boxes outside pet shops," Deadpool nodded enthusiastically as he lowered his hands again.

The brunet... could actually imagine all this and his lips twitched. Deadpool in full suit climbing a tree for a kitten; which would probably have been scared shitless of him. He chuckled which was a mistake because he could actually see the huge grin behind the black and red mask.

"So finding Venom and taking him down without killing, that's my deal darlin'. Dude's got a name or you don't know?"

Peter sighed and looked away. Wasn’t he supposed to make the merc back off? Besides Venom was dangerous, there was no going easy on him. Could Eddie be traced back to Peter and in that case how? He thought it over and figured even if Deadpool found Peter Parker the photographer it would mean nothing? Better to risk it and get some help? How could he value himself like that when the risk was so little and the benefit so high?

“His name's Eddie Brock but it's pretty useless, also you can’t engage him in battle…” Peter started.

“I said I wouldn’t kill him. Why useless?”

“He's not your typical villain and you might have no choice but to kill him. He’s as strong and fast as me and I don't think he'd hesitate to kill,” Spider-Man pointed out as he fixed his mask properly and looked at Deadpool.

“That’s fine, you guys aren’t as indestructible as this fine piece of ass,” the merc chirped and smacked his own ass as he stood up.

Peter rolled his eyes. Was he really doing this?

“I appreciate help finding him…”

“Whoho!! Spideypool-team-up!!”

“…but you won’t engage him,” Peter finished.

Deadpool didn’t seem to be listening as he was doing a graceful acrobatic sort of dance around the roof.

“Don’t worry baby boy, I’ll use cotton gloves!”

Peter rubbed a hand over his eyes. He’d regret this.


	3. I want to have sex with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have time over today and edited a bunch of chapters.
> 
> If you are an English speaking yaoi saint that would love to beta-read my stories, I am up for all offers!

* * *

 

 

Two months had given them nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero. Noll. Wade usually wasn’t anxious about a two-month search for nothing. He’d been on worse stakeouts that could take up to 6 months before he got anywhere near a target. For some reason, he felt he had to prove himself to the web-head.

 

He snarled in exasperation and tumbled on his back, all sprawled out widely, on the roof. Spidey was still sitting in a tailor seat next to him and quietly eating burritos.

 

“He’s like a fucking ghost. No activity for a fucking month now,” he growled in a complaint.

 

* * He’ll dump our sorry asses of incompetence * *

 

: : Spidey wouldn’t do that. He hasn’t found anything either : : White whined.

 

“I told you,” Spider-Man said calmly.

 

“He’s not actually a criminal…”

 

Wade arched an eyebrow beneath his mask.

 

“Yeah? So mayhem and destruction isn’t criminal?” he pointed out.

 

“We were fighting. He wasn’t destroying things out of want for destruction. This is why it’s hard to find him. Under that suit he’s a regular guy, not a criminal mastermind,” the hero said calmly.

 

Deadpool was again impressed with the flexible, agile, gorgeous, sexy superhero. He knew Spider-Man had struggled in that battle. Like really struggled. Anyone watching that had been hard to follow as the two arachnids had moved so fast and so sporadic and fucking awesomely it was like watching demigods.

 

* * You’re being overly fanboyish * *

 

: : Shut up! It was bloody awesome! All that swinging, spinning, twirling, flexing. It got us all hot and bothered, don’t you dare deny it! : :

 

Wade waved a hand as if he tried waving away the annoying voices. Apart from such an amazing display of strength, speed and agility from both of them, he had also never really seen Spidey take such a bad beating. Not to say Venom had gotten off lightly but it made you start to realize just how strong those two where and how much Spider-Man must hold back to function around normal mortal men.

 

: : We should have shot him! What if he bleeds black goo? : :

 

* * We actually did good. We kept most people clear… * *

 

“Was that praise?” Wade snapped in surprise.

 

Yellow kept demurely quiet, almost bashful.

 

“Huh?” Spider-Man looked down at him.

 

“Not you,” Wade waved it off.

 

Those big, white eye parts stared at him a while longer. Then the man started licking and sucking his fingers clean.

 

: : Jump him! We so wanna put our fingers in there too! Ask if he wants another kind of burrito! : :

 

* * Shoot yourself before he noticed that butt ugly hard-on you're displaying * *

 

Deadpool could do nothing but stare. Seriously, he knew Spider-Man had to know what that display would result in.

 

“Are you hitting on me?” he asked bluntly.

 

“Huh?” the hero said as he started tugging his gloves back on.

 

Deadpool could see the confusion even through the white eyes of the mask.

 

“Because sucking your fingers like that is just a quiet way of telling me you really want or need a blowjob.”

 

The visible bottom half of the man’s mouth turned adorable red and Wade was rewarded with his mouth being webbed shut. It didn’t stop his ruckus laughter even if it was a bit muffled.

 

: : That's so cute! Me wanna eat him all up and squeeze him like a teddy bear! : :

 

: : Then I so wanna fuck that ass! : :

 

* * Not sure how uneasy I should be with that mental picture, teddy bear and fucking in anywhere near each other is just disturbing…* *

 

“Either you’re incapable of ever thinking before speaking; in which case I’d never tell you a secret. Or, you’re so depraved every daily action is somehow sexualized in that weird brain of yours. I don’t even have a name for that kind of insanity but I’d stay far away from it in either case,” Spider-Man snarked.

 

Wade was still laughing. He still saw it as a sign of trust that the man hadn't actually hung him from a rooftop and stolen his babies this time around. Deadpool sat back up and used a knife to get rid of the webbing.

 

“I’m just wired that way baby boy. Perhaps you should keep your distance?” he purred.

 

“Tried that, didn’t work out. I have this leach constantly crawling at my heel and it’s un-killable too,” the hero said dryly at which Deadpool laughed merrily.

 

“You’re not being very serious in your attempts at killing said Leach. Makes one think perhaps you like it,” he purred.

 

He could see an arched eyebrow behind that mask.

 

“You’re saying since I’m not beating you to a bloody pudding I’m actually encouraging your behavior?”

 

“Well aren’t you? Why else would you make such lewd gestures?” he pointed out with a wide lecherous grin.

 

Spider-Man fixed his mask and rolled his eyes.

 

“No wonder you get beaten up so often,” he muttered before stretching his arms towards the sky in an effort of stretching that sensuous back.

 

Deadpool reached out and grabbed sharp jaws before he pushed their masked mouths together.

 

: : Weee!!! Again! Touch more! Wanna put our hands around that sexy ass and bite his nipples! : :

 

* * Sigh, we’re dead and our babies will never be seen again... * *

 

It was just a press of masked lips, could it even be considered a kiss? It still made him shiver and grow hard all over while his head was spinning a hundred miles a minute. He determinately did not move his hands anymore or they would be roaming wildly. The whites of Spidey’s mask seemed to widen comically and Wade wished he could have actually seen his mouth. He was betting the hero was blushing again. He leaned back a few inches, fingers still around the jaw of the man. Spidey had frozen in his stretching pose. Had he broken the arachnid?

 

And then he was punched. Like royalty.

 

He even blacked out for a moment and when he came back he was sprawled on his back watching the clouds and stars pass by overhead. His jaw and lips and side of his face hurt. There was a cackling noise and he realized it was him laughing. Damn, his jaw hurt. His head hurt. Had he hit the back of it as he was slung on his back from the blow?

 

Spidey was standing up, looking as pissed and flustered as ever.

 

“Are you a glutton for punishment or what?” he growled icily.

 

“Sorry, I warned you,” Deadpool cackled as his face healed up.

 

He rested back on his elbows and grinned widely.

 

: :“I kissed Spidey!”: : he said happily and he knew he sounded exactly as white at that moment.

 

The hero made a huffing noise but contrary to what he usually did, which was swinging away, he just stood there glaring down.

 

“Why do you keep doing shit like that?” he growled.

 

Deadpool sharpened a little.

 

: : Because we have a huge hero crush on you!! : :

 

* * Because we really like pissing off people we actually want to impress * *

 

“Wasn’t it obvious? I want to have sex with you,” he said innocently but bluntly.

 

Spider-Man made a suffering noise and rubbed the bridge between his eyes.

 

“And if I tell you to stop it, I’m not interested, will you back off?” he asked in exasperation as he lowered his hand again.

 

“Um… you’re straight?”

 

“Duh!”

 

“Then no, I won’t back off!”

 

“What!? Why?” Spider-Man asked in outrage.

 

“Because you’re obviously lying. Had you just told me you don’t like me, I might have backed off, but you didn’t or else you’d have dropped me in the east river by now with lead weights around my feet. Although you should probably make a cement coffin if you really truly want to get rid of me,” he babbled on.

 

Ok, so yes he was slightly upset and nervous about the whole conversation and feeling rejected. Which was stupid seeing how he knew his attention wasn’t wanted no matter the reasons. Spider-Man sighed.

 

“I will lose my temper again and I will not be held responsible for any collateral damage when I do,” he growled before stalking towards the edge of the roof again.

 

“That’s cool! Won’t cry when you do, promise! Does that mean I could kiss your ass next time!?”

 

His mouth as webbed shut before the hero swung away. Wade grinned widely anyway. Ah, he might have to make a new “I’m sorry” basket.

 

*****

  
Peter was grumpy when he ate dinner with Aunt May that Saturday evening. Even if he tried to push Spider-Man business away from his private emotional life, it was hard. May didn’t deserve his mood.

 

“Something you want to talk about sweety?” Aunt May said gently as she put dessert on the table while Peter put away the dirty dishes and put bowls on the table again.

 

He shrugged. No, he didn’t really because how could he? He could always say it was just a bad day. Too many triggering things messing him up but it wasn't true. He’d like someone to talk about… Spider-Man with. Ever since… Gwen… He made an annoyed sound and squirmed in his chair.

 

“If a person sexually harasses you and straight out tells you they want to have sex with you and you say no and they simply ignore that, what do you do?” he asked in a flustered rush.

 

Aunt May twitched her lips in amusement.

 

“Well I’d say no again,” she started.

 

“And perhaps contact the police,” she added.

 

Peter knew that. Peter couldn’t do that.

 

“Overkill…” he whined.

 

“Why don’t you though?” she asked and that made Peter look up.

 

It seemed like such a ridicules question.

 

“Why don’t I?” he repeated incredulously.

 

Aunt May nodded with a slight shoulder shrug.

 

“It’s been a year. Even if you’re not ready for a relationship, perhaps just testing the waters might be good,” she said softly.

 

Peter's eyes went wide and almost bulged.

 

“Are you suggesting one-nightstands are good?” he asked breathily.

 

Hell no, he could not believe this of his Aunt. She smiled conspiratorially.

 

“No not as simple as that, but maybe a date or two and maybe more. You need to get out there again. If dating with a long-term agenda is too daunting perhaps something simpler for a while will be easier. No strings. No obligations,” she said calmly.

 

Peter could feel himself start blushing and he was fretting and he was getting overly warm and embarrassed.

 

“Would it be terribly bad to indulge this harasser? Unless you really don’t feel any attraction at all?” she asked softly.

 

“It's’ a guy,” he growled.

 

That ought to make things clear.

 

“So?”

 

Peter widened his eyes again in complete shock. He stared at her all stiff and tense. No way. Aunt May chuckled and was grinning widely.

 

“Oh Peter, you seriously think I mind that sort of thing?” she chided.

 

He started squirming and rubbing his neck and God, his cheeks were absolutely burning up. He had thought that. Truly. Now he felt ashamed and foolish, of course, she wouldn't mind!

 

“I’m not saying I thought you was gay but I don’t mind either way.”

 

“I’m not! I had Gwen,” Peter said forcefully and he hated how defensive he sounded.

 

“You mind people being gay?” she asked softly and he groaned again.

 

He couldn’t look into her eyes. This was beyond embarrassing. Why was he still in this conversation?

 

“No, of course not…” he blurted.

 

Or did he? No, he’d never minded before. He’d had contact with all kinds of sexually oriented people and hadn’t minded. But he’d never been at the focus of one! He harshly rubbed his flaming face again. Gah, he regretted ever bringing it up!

 

"So are you really annoyed and angry at him for hitting on you, or are you getting angry because you like it?" she asked with that smirk and glint in her eye that had so often made Uncle Ben blush at the drop of a hat.

 

Peter was no exception, especially at what she was suggesting.

 

"It doesn't matter, he's way older than me too," he whined.

 

His head was spinning around the concept. Did he actually like the teasing innuendoes?

 

"By how much?" Aunt May asked and now she was a bit more suspicious.

 

Peter kept resting his head in his hands as a way to hide his face rather than getting head support. He glanced at her and realized he wasn't sure.

 

"I don't know.. just.. older," he muttered.

 

"Older could be two years or twenty years," she pointed out and he shrugged.

 

"Grown-upish?" he suggested and she smiled in amusement.

 

"Grown-upish?"

 

Peter shrugged and made a grimace which she chuckled at. They were silent a while before she sighed and turned more serious.

 

“If he’s really making you so uneasy and especially if he threatens you in any way, you need to go to the police,” she said firmly.

 

Peter almost pouted. Yeah well, they'd laugh if Spider-Man walked into a station and filed a sexual-harassment complaint against Deadpool of all guys.

 

“It's more... obnoxiously annoying...?" he grumbled and she smiled at that.

 

“Well… I’d threaten to go to the police if he doesn’t quit and then go through with it. You can’t accept people not respecting you. Though perhaps you should analyze first why exactly he's annoying you," she said and winked.

 

Peter sighed. Aaaand he was back at the core of the problem.

 

“You could invite him for dinner and let me have a look at him. I can tell you if he's a good person,” she suddenly suggested amusedly.

 

“What? No! God no!” Peter said almost panicked.

 

“I’ll just ignore him…” he muttered as he rubbed his flaming face again.

 

Yes, because that had proven to work. He couldn’t look into her amused eyes hiding the worry. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have lied. Why the hell was both Deadpool and Aunt May assuming him not to be entirely straight? It was annoying. As if they could know him better than himself! Deadpool insinuating that; he could have shrugged off, but Aunt May might actually know him a tad better than he himself...

 

“You made all this dessert? Who are we inviting?” he asked in a chirping tone to divert from the subject again.

 

He slowly pulled the bowl full of ice cream treats towards him. May easily grabbed the slew and pulled it back towards her.

 

“No one, but I know who eats like seven,” she grinned.

 


	4. Children

 

The crime cartel had a mixed business of human trafficking, prostitution, drugs, and robbery. For once Deadpool had asked him for help. Peter had never seen the mercenary so worked up. The way he babbled and went on was an ill-hidden rage temper at the brink of blowing up.

 

"I do not kill," Spider-Man growled as they waited for the warehouse elevator to rise up.

 

"Me neither, but if they come at me guns blazing I'm not holding back," Deadpool growled and he was deadly serious.

 

There was no talking to him. Peter recognized that high-intensity tone in his voice. The man's entire body was strung tight and pumped up on adrenaline.

 

"Fuck that, I'm not taking no bullets just to preserve some pansy-assed sensitivity!" he snarled and Peter guessed he was talking to the voices.

 

He frowned. He didn't like it but he also understood. Besides, Deadpool had almost never killed when they teamed-up. He'd even made an effort of fitting his beloved guns with tranqs and stunners and gone to great lengths to use his blades in reverse for less lethal attacks.

 

"Just don't shoot me," he muttered.

 

"Aw, baby boy! You could be standing two inches from my gun going off and I wouldn't hit you," Deadpool said happily but there was still that strained, hard edge to his voice.

 

The warehouse elevator arrived and Peter jumped clear as a barrage of gunfire ripped through it. Then they were fighting.

 

Screaming and blasting and booming and people dying. Whoever he didn't web up or punched out cold died at Deadpool's bullets or blades. They busted the drug packing rooms and the scared workers yelled and hid under tables or flat out ran for the exits. More goons tried making swiss cheese out of them.

 

Peter hissed in anger as one goon turned his automatic towards the fleeing workers. No witnesses. He came down on the man harder than necessary and he knew his punch was hard enough to break bones. He grabbed the automatic and twisted it in half before he had to jump and dodge clear of a rapid barrage of gunfire.

 

They worked their way through the facility. Deadpool in one end, Spider-Man on another and they effectively herded the criminals and flushed them out. He hoped Deadpool wasn't so enraged he gunned down the workers who only wanted to escape. They finally met up in the last large room. It looked like a fucking leisure room with nice furniture, a pool table, a TV and a small kitchen corner. In one corner of the room was a huge cage. Deadpool got to it first and as Peter saw it his stomach dropped down to his feet.

 

Inside the cage was easily fifteen children. Ranging from maybe five to twelve years of age. They looked clean with clean and whole clothes but a lot of them was crying. The older ones hugging the younger ones. Every single one of them staring wide-eyed up at them. Bruised. Hurt. Scared. Treated like goods. Made to do things Peter didn't want to contemplate.

 

Peter flinched mightily as Deadpool blew the lock open with one well-placed bullet. Some of the children screamed. They all huddled as far away into the cage as possible. Their saviors were scaring them perhaps even more than their tormentors. Peter started to walk closer as Deadpool got on a knee and put away his guns.

 

"Hello kittens, wanna come out and see some sun?" he crooned with such a sweet, soft voice.

 

Peter hadn't ever heard it before. Was this the reason for the man's vengeful rage? None of the children moved, so the man reached out a large hand, palm up.

 

"Me an' Spidey won't hurt you. We'll take you all out of here. No one's gonna hurt you again," he kept crooning.

 

Peter felt really bad. For all horrible thoughts he'd had about Deadpool. His one-sided beliefs and assumptions. He contemplated taking off his mask but his stomach twisted at the idea. Yeah, he wasn’t comfortable enough to do that, despite it helping to calm the children.

 

"Anyone wants to ride piggyback?" he asked softly as he hunched down beside Deadpool.

 

The mercenary looked over and Peter could see his wide grin behind the mask.

 

“Me?” he asked hopefully and Peter scoffed.

 

“The age limit is 18,” he said calmly.

 

“I’m 18, I just matured early!” the man grinned and Peter rolled his eyes with a slight headshake.

 

During their banter, one of the older girls had walked forward and grabbed Deadpool's hand. Her large blue eyes stared at Peter's masked face though.

 

"You're Spider-Man," she stated.

 

"Uhu, you wanna leave with us?" Peter encouraged.

 

More of the children approached now.

 

"Alright, who wants the arm-ride?" Deadpool chirped.

 

He grabbed two of the youngest in a hug and lifted them. He led the way out. Peter herded the rest of the children between him and Deadpool while carrying one who was coughing constantly and looked to be having the flu. The oldest girl was holding his free hand.

 

Deadpool choose the way Peter had gone through the building. There were far less gore and blood that way. On the elevator ride, the children huddled close together and the merc and the hero stood slightly in front of them. Spider-Man trusted his spider sense to alert him if there was any danger. He was being hyper-aware and reacted on a bloody rat that had the unfortunate luck of joining them on the ride. He didn’t like rats. They bite.

 

"I called in the blues, we should skedaddle before they arrive," Deadpool said lowly as the elevator slowly took them downstairs.

 

"No, I'm not leaving until every one of them is in an ambulance or a cruiser," Peter said firmly.

 

The mercenary made a groaning noise of frustration.

 

"You can leave," Peter offered.

 

"You make me sound like a bad guy," Deadpool whined.

 

"That's what happens when you kill people," Peter pointed out.

 

*****  
  
His relation with the guys in blue had gotten much better. Up to the point, it wasn't impossible for him to drop down and ask if they needed anything or how he could be of assistance. So he wasn't feeling all too flighty as 10 cruisers and two ambulances came up to the facility. Deadpool had skedaddled long ago. He was not as friendly with the guys in blue. Or rather, the blues wasn’t friendly with the red.

 

He stayed with the children around him as the ambulance personnel started taking care of them one at a time to assess who needed what. The officer in charge came over to them after awhile and the man was somewhere in his middle ages. His grey-blue eyes eyed Spider-Man in that uneasy way people did when they didn't see any eyes they could meet.

 

"Quite a bust you did. You... did that alone?"

 

"No, Deadpool joined the party," Peter admitted with a flinch.

 

The police just hummed and wrote some notations.

 

"Thanks for the help I guess," he muttered and Peter groaned.

 

"Did I bust another of your long stakeouts?" he asked and almost whined.

 

The man thankfully smirked in humor.

 

"No, actually we have nothing on these dirt bags. We know what they are up to but our hands are tied. They are ridiculously professional about leaving little evidence and covering their tracks. Honestly, between you and me, I’m happy you don't follow protocol. Even if we can't jail everyone with the time they deserve; this thing was busted up. This could be enough of a blow to leave the organization in shambles and it might never get as big and nasty again," the man said and Peter actually felt really good hearing that.

 

*****  
  
He swung around the block a few times once he left. Of course, he saw no trace of Deadpool. The mercenary must have known of the children. He was also pretty sure the mercenary hadn't been hired to save the children. This had felt much more personal.

 

Dinner that evening was silent. He was aching and weary and thoughtful. Of course, Aunt May being who she was, picked up on it.

 

"Do you want to talk?" she asked after a long while of silent eating.

 

Peter sighed and watched his almost empty plate for a while.

 

"You know this guy I told you about?" he started as he tried to formulate his feelings without having to reveal the actual true story.

 

"Your stalker," she assessed.

 

Peter made a face at that.

 

"Yeah uh... we were sorta landed in the same scope. He's a reporter..." Peter started.

 

He felt a slight cold sweat as he struggled to find a good backstory for this.

 

"And?" she prodded calmly.

 

"And he asked if I could accompany him, saying he really needed a good photographer..."

 

"Flattery from a stalker..." she smiled humorously.

 

"Yeah... in any case, turned out it was a dirt hole with drug dealers. They had also gone into child prostitution. He needed heavy proof to be able to set the police on them. So we did that, got the police involved... saved the children..." Peter summarized while staring at his food.

 

It was sortish correctish...

 

"And he never wrote a single word about it. He let someone else do a coverage," he finished and poked at his food.

 

She'd know he was lying. That sounded ridicules. What reporter would give up a scoop like that? Well, a reporter with a conscience. What mercenary would risk his life and waste expensive time and bullets to break up a big organization to save children? Peter would, even if he hadn't been a supercharged hero. In a heartbeat. Had Deadpool told him it had been about saving children he'd gone in blazing hellfire too no doubt.

 

"So what you're saying is... your creepy stalker suddenly showed compassion and now he's not a bad person to you anymore. He has morals and values and you can't figure out how to push away his advances?" Aunt May said calmly both as a question and a statement.

 

Peter sighed and leaned back. How could she so easily read a situation? That was it exactly. He wasn't even sure he could formulate his own feelings and thoughts that precisely.

 

"Yeah," he admitted.

 

She smiled warmly at him.

 

"Then perhaps you've found a common ground to work on. Don't let his good deeds forgive his bad behavior though. He still should show you the same respect he'd shown those children. Perhaps you could explain this to him and maybe he'll actually back off," she suggested.

 

Peter looked away slightly.

 

He wasn't sure he was able or willing to have Deadpool back off by now. Going on patrol without him was sometimes lonely. Their team-ups were really great. Deadpool was a great partner. They worked good together, Peter had to admit that. Much in thanks to Deadpool's vast adaptability. He also had to admit he'd learned a thing or two from Deadpool the way he was sure he'd taught the mercenary a thing or two.

 

Peter groaned and rubbed his face hard.

 

"I'm not gay," he whined and his aunt cruelly chuckled.

 

"No, you're bisexual. Actually... your mother was too," she said softly and Peter opened his eyes wide.

 

"Whatchasay?" he stammered.

 

"Mary, she was bisexual," she explained and looked only mildly uncomfortable.

 

"Look Peter. Don't push yourself into anything or any direction. Follow your gut," she advised.

 

Peter stared at her for a moment and he had that feeling she was hiding something. Then again she had a right to hide things from him, he did to her after all.

 


	5. Phone Number

 

”Way to disappear for two weeks.”

 

: : He was looking for us! : : White squealed in delight.

 

* * He probably just happened by coincidently. We are out in the open * *

 

“What, you mean you haven’t seen me ogling you?” Wade chuckled around the burrito he just took a bite off.

 

He watched appreciatively as the arachnid landed gracefully and silently on the rooftop only to bounce up and easily come up sitting on the staircase house roofing.

 

“Are you serious when you say that? Because it creeps me out,” the hero huffed.

 

“Of course I’m serious,” Wade said and showed the man the binoculars he quite often used to get a good look at said Spider.

 

He inched it away when the hero got that taut body language and long slender fingers twitched.

 

“And going, going, gone,” he hummed as he put away the binoculars again while keeping an eye on those hands so they wouldn’t steal anything.

 

“Have a burrito, it’s free,” he encouraged and pushed one into those twitching hands to occupy them.

 

Spider-Man sighed and drew up a knee to his chest to lean an arm across it. He diligently took off his gloves to lay them neatly on a thigh before he rolled up his mask just far enough and bit into the food. Wade surreptitiously eyed him.

 

: : Spidey's a neat freak : :

 

* * Wouldn’t hurt to copy some of those traits * *

 

: : Huh? We’re neat, we’re just not freaks about it : :

 

“I got a job so I wasn't in New York the past week,” Wade supplied around a mouth full of food.

 

While Spidey had gotten relaxed enough to take off his gloves and roll up the mask pretty far sometimes, Wade was not equally comfortable. Showing the lower half of his face and lips were enough. Being the hero he was, Spider-Man had never mentioned the disfigured skin. Yet.

 

“That was cool what you did.”

 

: : !? : :

 

* * ? * *

 

Wade turned wide-eyed and stiff towards the man. Cool what?

 

Spider-Man shifted uncomfortably and seemed to glance at him and then look elsewhere.

 

“They’re fine by the way. All got hospital treatments, got foster homes most of them at this point. Apparently, some had been kidnapped and most have been returned to their rightful families,” the man continued solemnly.

 

Wade shuddered slightly and looked away to finish his burrito. He shrugged.

 

“Cool,” he mumbled.

 

He wasn't sure what to say.

 

“If you..find stuff like that again you could just tell me. Maybe we could… like find evidence of some kind and help the police do proper work of them,” he suggested softly.

 

Wade very nearly choked.

 

: : AWSOME! Spideypool team-up! Let’s find every little case and go Gadget on them! We can be Toto! : :

 

“Police takes too long,” he muttered.

 

"If we gather evidence first there will be more proper arrests and I still don’t really condone killing…” the hero said with an obvious frown.

 

Heated anger ignited in him and it was rarely directed at the arachnid.

 

“Don’t be such a prissy, naïve idiot! Assholes abusing children and animals have clearly revoked their right to life. What good could such a person possibly do? It’s just a sore fucking thumbnail in your eye whenever you see them. It’s like saying hey mother fucker, despite raping murdering and abusing such weaker creatures than you, you still retain the same rights as them. Equally, you bitch slap that child and gut punches them saying hey kid, that rapist that just destroyed your life? Yeah he still has a right to live after killing yours, no offense,” he snarled and he was incensed enough that he lost his appetite.

 

He was surprised the arachnid didn’t respond. He didn’t even react to Wade's anger. He seemed thoughtful.

 

“So… kill an animal or a child and you deserve the death penalty?” he asked and Wade couldn’t really truly get angry again because the man managed to sound completely serious. He wasn't even baiting Deadpool.

 

“Fuck yes!” he hissed and kicked his legs.

 

“Well, maybe not animals. It depends. Like was it a drawn-out consciously evil deed or was it an accident because you didn’t fucking understand leaving a dog in a car during summer would fucking kill it? Hell no, we don’t need that fucking gene pool in the gene pool. I’d castrate the mutha fucker so we don’t get more idiots like that,” he ranted.

 

“But yeah, hurt a child you’re dead,” he said shortly.

 

“What if the attacker is also a child?” Spider-Man asked calmly and kept eating.

 

“Huh?”

 

: : Is he high? : :

 

“There are lots of accounts of teenagers hurting other teenagers. Not just small stuff either; rape and murders there too,” Spider-Man pointed out.

 

“Wouldn’t it be that if you kill the teenager who’s killed another teenager, that you should be killed because you killed a child?”

 

* * He’s starting to sound like us * *

 

“Well… no, that’s just weird!”

 

“Uhu.”

 

They were silent and Wade fidgeted. White was whining that it made no sense and what did it matter? Evil was evil.

 

“I guess I have to make a teenage Deadpool who can clean up among all asshat teenagers then. Fair?” he concluded finally.

 

Spider-Man actually chuckled and Wade stared; because he seriously hadn't expected that.

 

“Sure, whatever. I guess you’re handy then. Because I couldn’t ever make that call. Even those people might have families. Children waiting for their moms and dads to come home, who loves them despite what they are. In the end, someone innocent gets hurt. I’m just not strong enough to make a call like that,” he stated softly.

 

“So you’re giving me a license to kill?” Wade asked a bit confused.

 

“What? No!” Spider-Man exclaimed and he frowned again and fidgeted.

 

“Just… you did well this time and I understand your point of view, I simply can’t ever do that personally.”

 

Wade smiled giddily.

 

“You’re giving me praise!” he squealed in delight and White wasn’t far after.

 

“Now he gets it,” the hero groaned and he looked and sounded as if he was rolling his eyes.

 

Wade started eating again, feeling happy and giddy and started humming because of it. His legs kicked the rhythm against the wall.

 

: :   I'm a killa, your, your killa! Gonna slash and dash, killa, your, your killa!   : :

 

* * Oh God, make it stop, please make it stop... * *

 

Wade chuckled and if it was a bit high pitched and just that side of desperate Spider-Man didn't seem to notice or care.

 

: :  KILLA!! YOUR, YOUR KILLA!  : :

 

"Shut it!" he hissed under his breath.

 

“Give me your phone,” Spider-Man suddenly requested and Wade choked badly enough his eyes grew teary.

 

“What for!?” his voice was definitely a bit too high pitched.

 

“Give it,” the hero said impatiently and snapped his fingers and waved his hand imperiously.

 

“Don’t kidnap it,” the mercenary muttered as he handed it over.

 

“Dude, how old is this thing…?” he muttered as he turned it over in his hand.

 

“It’s rock solid. It’s been trampled, thrown, drenched, whipped, shipped and gassed and it’s still ticking. Show me any wet-nosed-kids-phone capable of that,” Wade growled in defense of his life-partner.

 

“Hello Kitty?” Spider-Man asked with an obviously arched eyebrow as he thumbed the decal at the back of the phone and the little jingling decoration.

 

“Don’t be hateful!”

 

“I’m not! You’re just awfully weird at times,” the hero chuckled as he started flipping around on the phone so fast Wade got a headache just watching.

 

“Ugh, figured you’d be a tech geek,”

 

“Biology engineering really but I like tinkering.”

 

“Of course you do,” Wade said with a grimace.

 

“I bet you’re the insufferable know-it-all in class too,” he muttered.

 

“Uhu,” Spider-Man said and handed the phone back.

 

Wade studied the arachnid and wondered if he had guessed right. He flipped through his phone and when he saw a new contact he almost got an instant boner.

 

“This is…?”

 

: : We got his phone number!? : :

 

* * Don’t be preposterous. It’s probably the sexy phoneline * *

 

“I hate it when you’re following me around. If you want to meet up just call. Stop stalking me,” Spider-Man said sharply.

 

Wade stared at him, sure hearts was dancing around his head because there was a lovely wreath of hearts circling Spider-Man's face at the moment.

 

“This is like your private phone? Like directly? Like I could actually call and you’d not even be dressed up, like really your phone number?” he said in a kind of excited voice that ended in a squeak because he hadn’t taken a new breath for a while.

 

"Blow this up any larger, or overuse your privilege and I'll erase it again," Spider-Man said frostily.

 

: : We're gonna call him every day! Think he's up for phone-sex? That's no touching at least? : :

 

Wade grinned and attacked the man with a bear hug, dragging him close despite the yelp and struggle the hero put up.

 

"That's so cool Spidey! I'll only call you twenty times a day and never before midnight!" he said happily.

 

"Get off me! You crazy killer teddy bear!" the hero hissed and manage to squirm loose enough to knock a fist in Deadpool's head.

 

However, Deadpool had a lap full of Spidey and he wouldn't give it up for a little knock on the head. He hugged the squirming man closer and one hand sneaked down the sensuous, muscular back.

 

"Does this mean we can have phone sex too?" he crooned.

 

"You...!?" the arachnid hissed.

 

Then his free hand managed to grab Wade's wandering hand and; pain. Wade wailed and laughed so hard he was sure he'd throw up as the arachnid scampered off, looking like a hissy cat. His hand. God, it hurt. It was crushed in very weird angles and as he watched; a finger twisted around and rearrange itself properly with a sickening pop.

 

"It was worth it," he said giddily.

 

"I got Spidey booty!" he grinned.

 

Spider-Man shook his head. Another finger popping into place made the man wince. Wade could already see the guilt growing in the hero.

 

"I'm..."

 

"No! Don't ruin it!" Wade exclaimed as the hero tried getting closer again.

 

"What?"

 

"Don't fucking apologize! I mean come on, you don't deliver a punishment like that and then apologize! I'm not easily broken, see? And I probably deserved it," Wade said and scratched the back of his head as his hand fully healed itself and he flexed his fingers.

 

"But you know, a whip or a paddle or even some hard angry sex is always way better than broken fingers."

 

Spider-Man smacked his own forehead and grumbled something unintelligible.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Death sentence.
> 
> What are your thoughts on the subject? Should such a punishment exist? What crime would earn you that punishment? Do we have a good enough legal system that we can safely say we get the right criminal?


	6. First Aid Kit

 

 

 

His phone was ringing. Of course, it was ringing. He glared at it. It had started ringing far too early in the day and it was still ringing.

 

"Shouldn't have given him my number," he growled as he washed the plates as if they had done him bodily harm.

 

Less than a week had passed since he'd taken the dubious decision to give Deadpool his number. He'd hoped the stalking would stop even if the harassing didn't. He'd given the mercenary a text stating he was not available until the evening. Of course he should have known better than to think the man would leave it at that. No, he'd gotten constant messages throughout the day. Deadpool seemed to write as he spoke, everything on anything that popped into his mind. Except Peter wasn't close enough to smack him when he was going overboard.

 

"Aren't you going to answer?" Aunt May asked as she came back into the kitchen.

 

"Kinda busy, they'll have to wait," Peter said pointedly as he held up his hands full of dishwater.

 

"Oh, I can take it," she said with a smile and reached over.

 

"No!" Peter exclaimed and snatched it so fast it left dishwater all over the counter and the floor and on Aunt May and on the table behind her.

 

They stared at each other for a while and Peter could feel the color rise in his cheeks.

 

"That's, I mean, no, they just have to learn patience," he stammered.

 

She arched one of her dark eyebrows and smiled knowingly.

 

"Is this your admirer?"

 

The damn phone kept chiming. It had stopped ringing, instead there were several chimes received texts. Deadpool had a very annoying habit of writing one-word text messages when Peter took too long in answering.

 

"Uhu, maybe," Peter muttered and put the phone on silence and shoved it into his pants pocket.

 

"You exchanged phone numbers?" she asked and she wasn't hiding her glee very well.

 

"I thought it would make him back off..." Peter muttered and realized how foolish the idea had been once he spoke aloud.

 

"Alright. I’ll go change my clothes."

 

"I'll clean up."

 

"Of course you will," she said and left the kitchen still smiling wryly.

 

Peter sighed and grabbed a towel.

 

Stupidest thing to ever do. Granted this day Deadpool had been impossible. He shouldn't have responded at all. It started ringing again and he growled.

 

"Seriously," he muttered and flipped the phone on.

 

He'd yell at him and hang up. He answered.

 

"Seriously? You must be changing phones once a week because you wear them out!" he snapped.

 

"Hiya Spidey, whatcha doin'?" the mercenary chimed and it sounded as if he might be out and about.

 

"Being busy, I told you, I'm not available until this evening."

 

"It is evening, see sun's going down!"Deadpool argued.

 

Peter glanced at the window and sighed. He massaged the bridge between his eyes.

 

"I'm still an hour away," he muttered.

 

He had the sudden urge not to go out. Like at all. He felt weary. He knew that feeling. Gwen was floating just out of reach of his conscious mind because he was struggling to keep her there or he would retreat to his room and curl to a ball under the covers.

 

"Alright. Have you ever tried taco ice-cream?"

 

Peter widened his eyes.

 

"No, and I don't want to!"

 

"You sure? Looks awesome, a bit freaky I guess..."

 

He could far too easily imagine Deadpool standing in front of an ice-cream shop pondering what to get.

 

"I'm sure. Don't call me or text me for an hour or I'll not show up at all," he groused.

 

"Aw! You're awfully stingy," the man whined.

 

"You're awfully stalkerish," Peter retorted and started pouring more warm water on the dishes.

 

"But it's paying off, I even got your phone number."

 

Peter groaned at that. Deadpool was right and it was awful. He hung up. But he also texted a location and time later. As the phone chimed in response he rolled his eyes. The mercenary had sent a emoticon of a kissing heart. He felt his cheeks flush a little. What was he doing? Seriously? He could say this was platonic and strictly a friendship growing. Except Deadpool was pushing for anything but.

 

"You ok sweety?" Aunt May asked as she came into the kitchen again.

 

"Yeah, fine," he said quickly and finished the dirty dishes.

 

"I'm going out," he said hesitantly and eyed her reaction.

 

She had that not entirely reassured expression as she crossed her arms over her chest.

 

"Alright."

 

*****  
  
He wanted an apartment. Just a small one. Somewhere closer to the city. Mostly he just wanted a place where he could sleep, wash up and maybe heat some food in. It would be easier to have a place nearby during the weeks.

 

Peter swung lazily across the city to the meeting point. Deadpool was already there and doing some exercises with the katanas. It looked really good. One had to admit Deadpool moved like a man half his size and weight. As Deadpool executed a stab, Peter landed gracefully at the base closest to the handle. He had the time to see the mercenary's eyes go wide before he flipped over behind the man. His sticky foot and a web string was enough to tear the sword from that strong grip and he made a second flip and twist-summersault to end up on a wall, well out of reach of the man.

 

"Spidey! Nice move, not sure I wouldn't say cheating using the webs though," the man said and scratched his jaw.

 

He was eyeing Spider-Man as if he contemplated how to get up there. He also had that nervous air around him.

 

"Do I need to confiscate this?" Peter asked darkly and waved the sword around a little.

 

"No! Dear God no! What did I do to deserve that punishment!?" Deadpool exclaimed.

 

"How about 83 messages in one day. Seriously? Can you ever just follow a boundary? Have a modicum of self-control?" Peter asked in exasperation.

 

"Um.. no? Not really no. Not when I want something bad enough."

 

"Fine, then this is staying with me until you learn it!" Peter snapped.

 

"Ah! No way!" Deadpool yelled.

 

Peter webbed it up in a nice bag and slung it diagonally across his shoulders.

 

"Yes way," he retorted and crossed his arms over his chest as he sat smugly out of reach up on the wall.

 

"Baby boy, don't make me go nasty on your ass," the mercenary warned and he did have a more serious tone of voice now.

 

Peter was inclined to web free the man's guns and the second katana just to be sure. Or he could web the hands to the man’s holsters if he was quick enough. Apparently, Deadpool was either a mind reader or Peter showed his thoughts somehow because the man reached up and grabbed hold of the remaining sword.

 

"Look, fine, sorry, won't flood your inbox again now please hand it back. She'll get all rusty and sticky in that cocoon," Deadpool whined.

 

Peter was about to answer but something from the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was a darting fast move further away, yet he swore he knew that figure. He was moving before he had even finished thinking it. Venom? He didn't even hear what the mercenary was yelling, so focused on the chase and that elusive shadow was he.

 

His heart was already thrumming, adrenaline was already pumping through him. He knew sound and heat would hurt the symbiote; however, he wasn't sure he could actually separate Eddie from it unless Eddie wanted too.

 

At a particular angle he got a perfect view of the black symbiote. His eyes widened a little. It had grown. Gotten wider across the shoulders, it seemed taller too while still retaining that slimmed down muscular built. Way beyond Deadpool's size now. Peter was flailing for ideas. Heat and sound, noise. How did he get that? Trailing the man then? At a distance. Tracking him.

 

Of course, that didn't work. He knew the moment Venom knew he was there. Because Venom vanished.

 

"Fuck," Peter hissed as he swung a lap, heart racing.

 

His nerves were tangled up and he kept moving, looking around. It was an inconvenience that his spider-sense didn't react on the thing. It was pure luck that made him catch a movement from the corner of his eyes and he ducked out of the way just as claws slashed straight through the wall of the house. The chase was on.

 

He tumbled to a rooftop and kept moving.

 

"Eddie! We need to talk!" he called.

 

Perhaps reasoning. Perhaps... anything.

 

"Talk? We don’t talk to insignificant insects," the monster hissed and launched at him.

 

Peter had no time for idle chatting or witty commentary. He needed every ounce of concentration to stay that half second out of reach of far too long claws. He grunted as a punch finally landed and he twisted and kicked out with every fiber of muscle he had. It sent the monster across the roof and embedded him in the opposite wall. Peter grabbed the sword on his back.

 

Venom launched, long claws extended and maw gaping open with millions pin-needle sized sharp fangs. Peter smacked the katana against a steel pipe and the noise was enough to have Venom shriek and rear backward from him. He smacked the steel pipe again before diving in with a uppercut. Too fast. He should have unbalanced him again.

 

The creature formed a fist of pure black mass and punched his gut hard enough for him to see stars. His midsection was on fire. Long fingers/claws wrapped around his throat and squeezed as Venom leaned over him. Forcing him to his knees. Peter gasped and gagged as he struggled to loosen the fingers around his throat.

 

"We should break you apart and eat your marrow," it hissed.

 

Peter jabbed his fingers into the white eyes and thankfully it was a sensitive enough part that Venom shrieked and reared back. He kicked the creature clean between the legs. It lost the grip around his throat enough to give him room for an uppercut. It was powerful enough that Venom made a arch through the air before landing in several rolls.

 

Peter gagged and coughed as he tried getting his breathing back. He tore free the steel pipe and smacked it together with the katana as he got close to the symbiote. It shrieked in a prehistoric sound. He kept moving, kept banging them together and Venom wasn't easily gathering himself.

 

"Please Eddie, let me help you! It will eat you alive!" he pleaded.

 

He shouldn't have. The monster shrieked and large, thin talons flashed out. Peter registered the pain lacing through his shoulder before his numb fingers dropped the sword with a clatter.

 

The air was suddenly torn apart by a series of gunshots. Venom shrieked and arched in pain and anger as his back was riddled with bullets.

 

"No!" Peter screamed before he could stop himself.

 

Deadpool landed on the roof and his guns were blazing a rapid fire. He reloaded within a heartbeat one then the other and kept firing at the now retreating symbiote. Venom made a finishing snarl before throwing himself off the building. Peter jumped to the edge and scanned the buildings. There was no sight of him.

 

Damn it! He grabbed his bleeding shoulder and stood panting for a while. Damn it. He needed to be more prepared. Sound. He needed something quick. Would a playback from the phone be enough? No, he wouldn't get the volume high enough. His spider-sense told him to duck so he did.

 

"The hell!? How come you can knock me around and I can't do the same?" Deadpool growled.

 

He had sheeted his swords and holstered his guns and he looked pissed.

 

"Because I have a spider sense and you don't," Peter snapped.

 

"Don't shoot him!" he added in exasperation.

 

"Excuuuuse me, princess! Remind me next time I save your life!" the mercenary snarled right back.

 

Peter sighed.

 

"Not that it did much bloody good, what the hell's pits are that!?" he groused.

 

"And you! Never run off with my blade again chasing maniacs!"

 

Peter zoned him out for a while. This was a mess. A complete mess. He needed to focus. He needed to find a way to get them separated.

 

"Was that a Zelda reference by the way?" he asked to cut into Deadpool's tirade of how not cool it was stealing a man's babies and running off with strangers.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Cool," he murmured.

 

"And for the record, I will run off with it again if you flood my inbox," he said dryly.

 

He hissed as his wound was prodded from his back.

 

"This needs stitching. I know you heal good but not as good as this piece of lovely Canadian muscle," the mercenary said and slapped his own pectorals.

 

"I'll get it fixed," Peter muttered.

 

His shoulders slumped and a hard knot grew in his stomach. Gwen had gotten so good at that. They had even gotten a first-aid kit with some custom made additions. Like morphine painkillers and sewing. He realized he didn't have that anymore. He jerked as a hand waved in front of him.

 

"What?"

 

"Did he bang your head too? Got a fever already?" Deadpool said and held a hand against his forehead.

 

Peter smacked it away.

 

"No, I'm just tired and this shit hurts," he growled.

 

"That's what I was telling you. Get us to my place and I'll fix you up."

 

Peter glanced warily at the man.

 

"You got a first-aid kit?" he asked dubiously.

 

"Ya."

 

Deadpool seemed to blink at him as if he was an idiot.

 

"Why?" Peter asked incredulously.

 

"What ya mean why? If I get hurt of course!"

 

"But you heal like instantly!"

 

"But I can still play doctor!"

 

Peter made a suffering noise and smacked his own forehead again.

 

"No seriously, it's an old habit, and on occasion, I got someone to fix up. Like my Spidey!" he chirped happily.

 

He grabbed onto Peter's waist.

 

"That way!" he said and pointed.

 

"I'm not swinging us both, I got one hand," he grumbled.

 

"So let me try it!"

 

Peter swung them both slowly towards Deadpool's apartment.

 

*****  
  
Peter hadn't ever entered the apartment and he was actually surprised. He wasn't sure why he should be surprised at how tidy it was, but he was. It was cluttered with magazines, weapons, movies, games, weapons, and more weapons. But not really filthy.

 

"Don't move," Deadpool direct him and pointed to the living room table and sofa.

 

From the rather large living room, he could enter a rather big kitchen. To the left, there was a door that could lead to any sort of room and the corridor vanished into darkness. It seemed to be a semi-large apartment for three but Peter wasn't sure. He heard the beeping of some alarm being deactivated and a slight tingle of his spider-sense subside. He sighed. What was he doing?

 

It felt surreal for sure. He wondered what Aunt May would say about it all. She'd scold him and smack him and yell at him to go to a hospital no doubt. Speaking of which. He fished up his phone and sent a text to her stating he'd get late and she shouldn't wait up.

 

"You could sit down, the living room is booby proof," Deadpool said as he suddenly returned.

 

He turned on the lights and he was carrying a pretty big medical bag. The teen arched an eyebrow but decided to not ask if he was serious about having booby traps in his own apartment.

 

"I'm bleeding so I'd rather not," Peter muttered.

 

Actually, Deadpool had expensive looking stuff and he didn't want to ruin it with blood.

 

"Pshh! Who are you talking too? I spray paint this place red so often I have an extra storage of paint and tapestry and a special bank account just for house amenities. It's one of those accounts that I put money into and then they somehow vanish and I'm not sure what I bought with it you know?" he rambled as he set the bag down and pointed at Peter to sit in a chair with a low backrest.

 

Peter didn't really know because he wasn't careless with money. Then again, mercenary seemed lucrative so maybe Deadpool had money to waste on nothing. He started to sit down and was immediately grabbed by his biceps.

 

"Shirt off and face that way," the man chided as if proper posture for sewing stab-wounds should be common knowledge.

 

Peter frowned. He started to realize why the mercenary had been so eager to assist.

 

"There's also that perfect hospital a swing over," he grumbled.

 

"Hospital staff will want you butt-naked too. If it feels better I can always tear it off of you. What's it gonna be sweetums?" Deadpool asked sweetly and he was leaning far too close.

 

Peter pushed him away and slowly slid the top of the suit off, keeping his mask on of course. He sat down with his side to the man as directed and Deadpool sat down on the table before rummaging around in the big bag. He seemed very well stocked for a guy who healed. Peter admitted to blanching a little as he saw the needle.

 

“Please tell me you got some sort of painkiller in there,” he breathed.

 

“Scared of a little pain? I’ll be gentle,” the merc sniggered.

 

“It’s a needle, it doesn’t matter how gentle you are,” Peter groused.

 

“True.”

 

The man rummaged around for a while and held up a… suspicious white pill.

 

“Only have these little babies and sedatives. So either you sleep for 12 hours or you get high off your ass depending on your metabolism,” the mercenary explained almost sweetly.

 

“What kind of high?” the hero asked suspiciously and he started to whine to himself about how much this would hurt and he missed Gwen and Gwen’s bedroom and Gwen’s medical kit and Gwen’s small gentle hands.

 

“Morphine. Don’t give it to mortals, might kill them,” Deadpool sniggered again.

 

He used a medical scissor to chop off a third of the pill and then held it out to Peter. The hero sighed and rolled up his mask.

 

“How much can I really trust you if I get drugged?” he muttered half serious as he chugged a third of the pill into his mouth. Deadpool handed him a bought bottle of water before sliding his own mask up and drinking from another.

 

“That hurt you know,” he said in a tone that was either serious or still amused.

 

“Sorry,” Peter mumbled.

 

He could already feel the pill working. It was strong. He guessed it had to be what with Deadpool no doubt burning it out in less than an hour? Or sooner? The man prodded the area around the puncture wound and it pulsed fresh blood. Peter tried not to flinch but it still sort of hurt.

 

“Alright sweetums, you better not look,” the merc said as he started to take off his gloves.

 

Peter blinked. He’d never seen more than the scarred bottom half of the man’s face.

 

“I’m alright, blood doesn’t really make me queasy.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Deadpool said pointedly as he slipped a glove free.

 

His hand was as disfigured as the bottom of his face seemed to be. Peter truly wasn’t repulsed by it. Curious yes, repulsed no.

 

“I won’t look at the needle but if you’re suggesting your hands are making me queasy you really do have a low opinion of me,” he said calmly.

 

“Why aren’t you a darlin’?” the merc said in half a squeal.

 

He pulled on medical gloves before setting to clean the wound. Peter only slipped one slight groan and flinched as the cleaning fluid was directly sprayed through the hole. It didn’t hurt even a third as much as it should. He admitted watching the nozzle of the bottle press into the hole in his shoulder was a bit nauseating.

He looked away and studied the apartment around them. He could feel the morphine getting to his head and muscles. Making him sluggish and sort of tingling all over his body. Even his tongue and lips felt sort of tingly. His spider-sense made a half-hearted attempt as the needle came out.

 

“Why are you chasing Venom anyway? I mean, sure he looks like a scary guy and he’s god awful to fight. I just wasted three clips and what did he do? Swallow it and spit it out is what he did! Anyway, he doesn’t really seem like a bad guy. He hasn’t robbed old ladies, he hasn’t thrown kittens up in trees, he hasn’t stolen candy from a baby. Frankly, he’s the quietest villain I’ve ever seen,” Deadpool said as he worked.

 

Peter was a bit fascinated by the big hands. They felt far bigger working such a tiny needle around Peter's rather scrawny and wiry shoulder. The teen contemplated how to answer that but as usual, Deadpool wasn’t really waiting for a response.

 

“Except you two seem to have it bad for each other? So it’s more like a personal vendetta or what? I just don’t see why you are bothering so much about him? Granted he wants you dead whenever he sees you? Makes no sense. Just keep clear and you guys should be fine?”

 

Peter sighed and winced only slightly at ghostly pains as the needle threaded through his skin. Honestly, he wasn't really sure either why Venom hated his guts. Perhaps because he threatened his existence?

 

“It’s my fault he exists,” he muttered.

 

“Ok, story time or I swear you’re not getting any hot chocolate,” Deadpool said strictly and Peter had to smile at that.

 

“Remember the meteorite shower a few months back?”

 

“Uhu.”

 

“Something came with it and I guess I was at the wrong place at the wrong time because it attached to me. At first, it was pretty awesome. It enhanced all my abilities. It was like being in a constant high,” Peter said lowly.

 

It felt good talking to someone about it. The symbiote had managed to dampen his grief. It had almost completely suppressed *Gwen* and it had been awesome. He’d felt strong and free and happy again and aggressive and manipulative and dangerous. Predator more than anything. When he’d snapped at Aunt May one too many times and broken the jaw of a common thief for little reason he snapped back into reality.

 

“Wait? What? It? You mean that black suit you had wasn't actually a suit-suit?”

 

“No, it’s a symbiotic,” Peter corrected.

 

“In any case. It manipulates your emotions to make you accept the bonding. It also, as far as I can tell, assimilates what abilities you have and enhances them. It seems to retain that even when given a new host…” he explained and fell silent for a while.

 

“Wait so Eddie stole it from you? I mean it sounds pretty awesome…" the merc said and Peter narrowed his eyes because the man sounded eager to get his hands on it.

 

He pushed at Peter's knee to make him fully face the man so he could stitch the entry wound too. Moving only a little made the teen aware of how much the morphine was affecting him. A normal human might not have noticed that slight shift in balance, but he was so precisely attuned to his own body he did notice the slightest shifts.

 

“It turned me violent enough to hurt people close to me and I broke the jaw of a common thief for no good reason. It was turning me into a monster, there’s nothing good about it. It’s only a question of when Eddie, Venom, will snap and cause mayhem,” he said coldly.

 

“Alright that does sound a bit disturbing,” he admitted or else he was just agreeing with Peter to sooth him.

 

“So how’d you separate from it?”

 

Peter sighed and rubbed his forehead with his good hand.

 

“During a bank robbery, the alarm went off and it really hated that noise and it refused to get anywhere near live fire. So on a hunch, I shut myself inside the bell towers as they started ringing,” Peter explained and stiffened at the memory of that searing agony.

 

“It got off and when I woke up it was nowhere in sight. Now I realized it’s attached itself to Eddie Brock. Apparently, he was in the church at that same time,” Peter murmured.

 

He was getting seriously woozy but he felt completely numb. It was fascinating watching those big hands stitch and clean and wrap his shoulder while barely feeling it at all. Deadpool hummed as he slowly wrapped the shoulder in a lean, tight bandage.

 

“You know sweetums, he hasn’t really gone on any kind of killing spree. It’s only you and him dishing it out. What if you waited, maybe it’ll be alright?” Deadpool suggested.

 

“What? No! What if it kills him or he suddenly starts killing? It will be my fault!” Peter snapped heatedly.

 

“What if you handed over the case to other heroes then? Because I swear the two of you are banging on each other as if there were a personal vendetta between you two,” the mercenary pointed out.

 

Peter snapped his mouth shut before he yelled no for no good reason. Brock was too closely linked to Peter Parker. Who knew what connections a good detective mindset would find? Honestly if he really looked at this logically, Deadpool had a point. He should ask for help or simply hand it over to the big guns but… He felt responsible and he felt cornered and personally threatened. It was his damn suit! His damn fault for being too science-curious and nerdy and know-it-all.

 

“It’ll be fine. Maybe I could buy him a truce basket,” he muttered.

 

Deadpool chuckled.

 

“Maybe, although; he doesn’t seem to be the teddy bear kind.”

 

“You don’t either but it seems to appeal to you,” the brunet pointed out dryly.

 

“Ouch, are you telling me all this masculine beauty makes me un-cuddly?” the merc said in a pout as he flexed his biceps in a bodybuilder pose.

 

Peter actually chuckled softly. He was feeling pretty high. Not as bad as he’d feared and he didn’t think it would get any worse.

 

“All done,” the man said and gently patted the bandaged shoulder.

 

Peter rolled it softly and glanced at it. Deadpool lowered his hands to grab the chair Peter was sitting on and he was suddenly far too close and in the brunet's face. Peter drew a quick breath and leaned back. The man simply followed and then there was the back rest and Peter couldn’t lean back anymore. Their lips attached to each other and his mind went sort of numb.

 

Deadpool's lips were hot and dry and rugged. Not like when your lips were dry and flaking, just ridged were a scar crossed over and there was a bump in the skin. Their lips kneaded against each other and it was really gentle while firm. Really slow and yet too fast for Peter's spinning head. He was completely taken off guard by the violent reaction in his body. The simple press of lips sent a jolt through his nervous system. Making his skin tingle. A throb went down his center to his groin and he gasped at the sensation.

 

A tongue slid out to tease him as he gasped and he wasn’t of a mind to argue the invasion. It wasn’t really an invasion. A quick dip, a teasing hint. A slow, lazy, measured kneading of lips and tongue. God, Deadpool was a great kisser or Peter was too high or he’d simply gone too long since last he was touched by another human being.

 

He didn’t know how long they kissed but the pace never changed. Deadpool never moved his hands even as Peter somehow at some time raised his hands to broad shoulders. He kneaded his fingers into the leather and he wasn’t quite sure why. To push him away or draw him closer?

 

When the kiss broke he was gasping and lightly trembling in reaction. He was aroused and tingling even if not quite hardening yet. He had a surreal experience of being lucid enough to know he wouldn’t really fight this and he wanted more and somewhere deep inside he was affronted and exasperated at the mercenary’s relentless pursuit.

 

“You ok?” Deadpool asked close to his lips.

 

His voice was a deep husky tone that shivered along Peter's senses. He gave a jerky nod although he wasn’t quite sure what he should say. He was encouraging the man again. He should punch him and discourage it.

 

“This is the part where I tell you, you’re drunk go home, and then I’d drive you or call a cab. But I don’t think that will swing with you so I guess… I’ll just ask if you’ll be able to swing home safely and not drop off the web?” the man asked and abruptly leaned back.

 

Peter imagined actually feeling the cold air replace the warm body that had been so close to him moments before. He whipped at his mouth and imagined feeling the heat in his cheeks. God, he was so confused at the moment. One side wanting it and wanting to drown in something mindless which morphine and sex might induce. Another part mentally slapping him to snap out of it.

 

“I’ll manage,” he pressed out and his voice had gone a bit husky too.

 

He abruptly rose and swayed only slightly from the sudden move. He grabbed his top and dragged it on in a way he for sure wouldn’t have done unless the drugs still numbed him.

 

Deadpool, uncharacteristically, rose silently and corrected his own mask as Peter finished rolling down his.

 

Peter wouldn’t say he fled the apartment but really, that’s what he did. He dove out of the open window and caught a web on pure, sluggish reflex. The trip home was agonizingly slow and he constantly forgot to try and spare his right shoulder because he still didn’t feel much from it.

 

His lips still felt the kiss and his body for sure still felt the electric sensuality. He couldn’t even muster some anger at the manipulative, advantage-taking man since Peter wasn’t sure he would have ever started resisting. He knew he wasn’t *that* far off, right? Or was he? He groaned in misery. Ah, this was a mess!

 

Skating the last bit to the house was not as graceful as it usually was and his shoulders slumped as he saw the lights still on. Despite his text earlier. He quietly entered the house and took off his shoes and put away his board but…

 

Aunt May was standing right there in the hallway as if she was a bloody telepath simply knowing where her nephew was. Her dark eyes stared worriedly at him.

 

“Hiya?” he said lowly and glanced marginally at her.

 

“I texted you,” he pointed out.

 

So she shouldn’t have been worried. Instead, she walked up close and grabbed his cheeks to scrutinize him. Did he have bruises from the fight? Honestly, he couldn’t remember if he’d gotten his face punched this time and with the morphine still numbing him he couldn’t even feel it. Her eyes widened slightly though.

  
“Are you high?” she asked softly but still somehow managed to sound strict.

 

“Um… depends on your classification of high?” he said awkwardly and that only made her look sterner and he felt a cold sweat run down his back.

 

She let go of him and kept staring with that imperious look as she demanded answers. She’d seen him banged up so many times he knew she must be wondering. He licked the inside of his mouth as his sluggish brain struggled to come up with an answer.

 

“I tripped and fell on a rusty nail," he blurted.

 

How'd a rusty nail get in his shoulder?

 

"Peter!?" she gasped and widened her eyes before starting to reach out to him and he automatically squirmed slightly to avoid it. He still had his damn costume underneath!

 

"It's ok. That guy I've mentioned helped me to the ER. We had to wait like for forever before a nurse sewed me up and they gave me painkillers? Said I'd be woozy for a while?" he hastily continued and it burned inside to have to lie. Again.

 

She looked like she wanted to argue with him or draw him closer or fuss with him.

 

“Alright. What did it cost?” she said finally after a long moment of silence.

 

Peter went cold with dread.

 

“It’s fine Aunt May,” he choked as she went for her purse.

 

“Peter! At least let me pay your medical bills or I’ll feel completely useless!” she half snapped.

 

The teen flinched and looked down. Ah, he never really realized the extent of her worries.

 

“That guy I told you about paid for everything. Even a cab most of the way home,” he muttered.

 

Another lie and his head were spinning so much he was pretty sure now he’d get busted. The expression she gave him made his stomach clench really hard.

 

“Peter… Did he give you something?” she asked slowly.

 

The brunet felt heat creep up his cheeks. Damn.

 

“No! We went to the ER and I got some painkillers and he took me home in a cab!” he snapped and she got that stiff look she’d gotten whenever his temper exploded when he’d been weighed down by the symbiote.

 

More guilt and he was feeling nauseous.

 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he said shortly.

 

“Peter!”

 

He sprinted up the stairs two steps at a time and he could still feel how wobbly he was even if it might not be visible. She was following him and he was suddenly feeling stressed and chased. He slid into his room and hit the lock. His phone chimed with a text message at the same time. He paced as he struggled to push down his panic. Instead, he hastily started undressing so he could hide the suit in the furthest corner of his wardrobe

 

“Peter? Please open up,” Aunt may ask as she knocked on the door.

 

Peter cursed in his mind as he pulled on softer clothes. He was starting to feel really hot too. A bit feverish. He supposed that was his own healing factor trying to burn the drug from his system, especially as his adrenaline spiked.

 

“Peter, sweetie, please?” she pleaded and his heart was breaking and the guilt was eating him alive.

 

It would be ok, the suit was hidden. It was ok. He pushed open the lock again and she let herself in. He shoved his hands in his pockets and didn’t look at her.

 

“Sorry I yelled,” he blurted out.

 

“Did he hurt you?” she asked bluntly.

 

“No! I told you what happened!” he exclaimed and felt his cheeks heat up again.

 

“Show me,” she said sharply and he stared at her incredulously.

 

“Show what?”

 

“The wound, the rusty nail?”

 

He blinked again. Yeah, she didn’t believe him and really, he wouldn’t have believed himself either. He made a frustrated growl and tugged down the collar of the loose t-shirt to show the bandage. Her dark eyes widened slightly. He absolutely loathed how her expression turned from suspicious to apologetic and guilty.

 

“I’m sorry I thought… I was afraid…” she stammered and he hastily grabbed her shoulders and kneaded them.

 

“We kissed in the cab alright? And yeah I was even more out of it but that was it. He’s not really a bad person, just obnoxiously stubborn,” he murmured.

 

It was so, so embarrassing thinking she thought he’d get drug raped. Or drug molested or whatever. Granted he had, granted he didn’t care? She hugged him and he hugged her back for a long moment of silence. Once they separated again her hands fussed and fluttered across his shoulder.

 

“How on earth did you manage this?” she asked with blank eyes but still smiled.

 

“Goofing off on my board,” he grinned widely and they chuckled.

 

“Alright, drink some water before you go to bed,” she cautioned him.

 

“Sure,” he agreed.

 

She left and close the door and he wanted to melt into a puddle of sudden relief and calm. He did sort of melt into his bed after he turned off the lights. He snatched up his phone and stared at the text message. He’d saved Deadpool's number under “Pool” but he wondered if he should change it to “Obnoxious”.

 

                      You home alright, baby boy?

 

Peter stared at it for several minutes as his mind calmed and the bed lured him with sleep. He still didn't feel any indignant rage over the man’s stunt. He wasn't sure what he was feeling except for a lingering longing. He wasn't sure if that was longing for Deadpool or simply someone to hug and cuddle with. Someone to talk to with everything. Someone like… Gwen.

 

The sorrow hit him like a punch in his gut and seized up his throat. He curled onto his side to a tight ball of hurt while the sorrow blurred his eyes and made every breath a constriction in his chest.

 

                      I’m fine

 

He texted back and stared at the screen. He hoped the man responded.

 

                      Great. Drink water, go to sleep you drunk!

 

Peter smiled despite the chest constricting sorrow and the tears blurring his vision. He didn’t go to sleep but started playing complex games that needed concentration and timing and flexibility. Something to distract his hurtful thoughts.

 

 


	7. Wade Wilson

* * *

 

                      I do have a life besides being Spider-Man.

 

                      Cool! Whatcha up to then?

                      If you want we could play sexy nurse and patient this afternoon?

                      Unless you’re actually planning my murder since last time.

                      I take no offense though, I’d do it again. Kissing you was the best ever.

                      Do you eat cinnamon candy? Because you tasted sorta cinnamony?

                      Or that was me. Either way, wanna meet up later? Bust some bad guys?

 

: : Tell him how much we wanted to tear off his clothes and ravish him right on that chair. And the table, and over the back of the sofa and maybe against the wall : :

 

* * We should consider leaving the country a week or two and secure our arsenal in an airtight ocean vault * *

 

Wade watched his phone anxiously. Two days had passed without a word from Spidey and he hadn't seen him swinging around either.

 

* * Which you shouldn’t since we are Not stalking him * *

 

: : We so are. We could probably figure out the radius of where he lives calculated by the time he left to the time he answered our text : :

 

* * Moron * *

 

So the third day in he sent a text and actually got a response not too long after.

 

* * If he beats you up to a bloody puddle you have no right to cry * *

 

: : Spidey wanted us, we should have used the opportunity : : White growled.

 

And the two boxes was shooting off at each other and yelling until Wade smacked his eardrum to get some kind of other noise in there. Yes, he could have gone further. He knew and understood enough about drugs, inhibitions, and body language to know he could have gone further. But you don’t do that. It was borderline simply stealing that kiss. He’d intentionally grabbed the chair to stop himself from touching anything else or he really might have gone beyond what was decent.

 

He paced in his apartment as he waited for a response. Spidey was leaving him hanging and had done so the last days whenever he texted. He didn’t dare to barrage him with messages either. Who knew his state of mind once free of the morphine? In either case… Wade groaned and rubbed his unmasked face hard. Perhaps he needed to compose a really huge basket? Maybe it wasn't enough this time? Maybe… buy a super cool spider-mobile? Did Spider-Man even have a license? His phone chimed and he almost jumped three feet.

 

                      Shoulder’s fine, thanks. Regular place, 8:00

 

Wade made a shout and jumped as he made a victory dance.

 

: : Bring lube! : :

 

* * Put on the body armor. He could simply be planning our murder in a suitable deserving place * *

 

“Shut up you two. Whitey, you have no fucking tact whatsoever, Yellow, you shit of an inexcusable box, lighten the fuck up,” he grinned at them.

 

Perhaps he would be better off leaving his babies at home though?

 

*****  
  
His shoulder healed nicely. It had been a clean stab and no matter what that goo looked like, it didn’t seem to carry bacteria. Or Peter's healing was just that strong. Or Deadpool was just that good at fixing injuries. He’d given the mercenary the digital cold shoulder as he struggled with his own thoughts and intentions.

 

He was putting his shoulder to the test as he swung his way over to the meeting point. Yes, he was deliberately getting there late. As his shoulder started to ache lightly he eased up on it. Deadpool was already square in the middle of the roof waiting on top of a picnic blanket, a huge bag of burritos sitting next to him. The teen arched an eyebrow as he came down to a graceful, soft landing.

 

“You’re late! You’re actually a closet sadist, aren’t you? Which is cool, I have tons of fun stuff we could do if you feel inclined!” Deadpool immediately chirped.

 

Peter had seen his high nervous energy a block away and listening to him and watching him closely, he could almost touch that nervous energy.

 

“Where're your swords?” he asked curiously as he walked the few steps over.

 

The mercenary had his guns strapped to his thighs and the usual belt but the harness on his back was empty. The man rolled his shoulders and was no doubt feeling the lightness of the harness. Why even strap on the harness if he didn’t bring the swords…?

 

“I might have left them at a safe place…” he murmured and he almost sounded bashful.

 

Peter snorted before he sunk down in a tailor-seat. Deadpool flinched and fidgeted. The brunet grabbed a burrito before rolling up his mask to start eating. Yes, he was deliberately not saying anything about that drugged kiss. Let the bastard stew in his own nervousness. He was making the teen’s teeth ache just being beside him.

 

“So yellow suggested we should shoot ourselves or else leave the country for a while. White suggested we should drug you again and lock you up in our sex dungeon,” Deadpool blurted.

 

Peter glanced at him. He’d mentioned those boxes before but usually not their suggestions.

 

“Uhu…” he hummed and the mercenary fidgeted and soon started tapping some intricate rhythm with his hand.

 

Peter stayed silent to further torment the man. He was nervous himself. Of what he would decide and what he would do. He enjoyed Deadpool's company. Especially after learning to know him more. He also enjoyed having someone to talk to.

 

“I won’t apologize because it was an awesome kiss, and we really wanted to do more but I was being a good boy, wasn’t I?” the mercenary started.

 

Peter opted to not argue with the man because he’d sort of… liked that. He still sort of liked that. Remembering that kiss was still giving him a light buzz.

 

“What do you want really?” Peter asked calmly and he could feel Deadpool's masked gaze on him.

 

“I told you before didn’t I?”

 

“Yeah you want to fuck, that part I got.”

 

“So what are you asking about?” the mercenary asked confused.

 

Peter felt his cheek flush only slightly. Damn. Admitting he enjoyed what they had was hard. Mixing it up with sleeping together? Ugh.

 

“So if you get what you want, will you leave me alone after that?” he asked casually but he was tensing up.

 

Peter wanted to squirm and pull his mask fully back down. He realized, which he subconsciously already had, that he didn’t want Deadpool to go away anymore. What if he did? What if they had sex and then the mercenary was off chasing his next trophy?

 

“Baby boy, you won’t live long enough to give me what I want,” the man said huskily.

 

Peter admitted to a slight tightening in his stomach and rush across his skin hearing that tone of voice. There was also a different sort of thrill passing through him at such an ominous/erotic promise. He was still unsure of just how far he wanted things to go and the feeling of insecurity was a sort of thrill. It wasn't like the insecurity he and Gwen had felt. That had been really forbidden. They had both known the boundary they couldn’t cross seeing how they were both minors and both wanted to wait for whatever. He regretted that now. This with Deadpool was a whole different level. He took a slightly unsteady breath.

 

“How do you always manage to sound both obsessively in love and obsessively stalker menacing at the same time? You mean you'll kill me soon so that's why there will be no time or you'll just follow me around until I die of old age?" Peter huffed as he masked his own nervousness with amusement.

 

His eyes went a bit wide as his spider sense tingled weakly before a big hand reached out for him. Deadpool grabbed the back of his neck and drew him in to press their mouths together. It was harder than the sensual kneading he remembered. The man worked their mouths together in a raw sort of kneading, still so very skillfully. Peter reflexively grabbed the hand, especially as he was dragged closer and off balance.

 

A tongue stabbed for entrance. Just a quick almost testing jab and Peter's breath quickened. He supported himself on one hand as he opened his mouth. Their tongues meet and intertwined in a rubbing, hard, slow dance. He was starting to pant and tingle all over. The roughness of the mercenary's lips made it oddly more sensual. It was nothing like kissing Gwen. He felt overwhelmed and distracted with the nuances there could be to a simple press of lips.

 

Deadpool shifted tempo every now and then. Teasing Peter to chase his tongue or plundering Peter's mouth unashamedly. Or nuzzling and kneading their lips together. Fingers trod into the hair at the nape of his neck and the teen reflexively stiffened as Deadpool tried to pull him closer still. A hand stroked his waist and lower to his hip to aid in the pulling and that's when Peter's brain switched gears.

 

He broke the kiss easily and grabbed the wandering hand on his hip. He could feel the heat on his face beneath his own mask and a growing throb down the center of his body. The mercenary hadn't let go of him, he'd barely gotten more than a couple inches between their faces. Deadpool's breath was hot and a bit elevated against his moist lips. His hands were really strong and firm even though they both knew who outmuscled who. It was still a thrill and it took Peter completely by surprise.

 

"Too fast?" Deadpool asked and his voice was a deep husky murmur. His fingers kneaded a bit at Peter's neck and the hand at his hip relaxed slightly.

 

"Yes damn it!" Peter half hissed, his own voice huskier.

 

"Couldn't resist. So if I ask pretty please and move this," he moved his hand from Peter's hip higher up his waist and back, "could we continue?" he hummed amusedly and started closing the distance between them again.

 

Peter leaned back and out of reach, he had to push against the wide chest to keep that distance. His face was absolutely burning up and his head was spinning.

 

"No way," he snapped.

 

"Aw come on Spidey," the mercenary whined.

 

The teen knocked a fist in that stupid head and the man moaned and clutched his hurting head while Peter got a bit more distance and grabbed his burrito.

 

"First of all we're on a bloody roof and secondly just don't do that out of nowhere!" he half hissed.

 

This was weird, he decided. Yes, they had stepped into the weird territory and Peter felt out on deep, deep water. Intimidated. He had to analyze that feeling after realization because he shouldn't be feeling this sense of intimidation. He hadn't ever since he'd taken down the Lizard. Deadpool started chuckling as he leaned back on his hands. It was obvious he was grinning widely like a maniac. He was happy at least. Peter's eyes traveled the wide expanse of bulging muscle and red leather and looked away as the heat intensified in his cheeks.

 

"So if we went back to my apartment, could we continue?" he purred but grabbed a burrito to start inhaling it.

 

"Let me think about it," the teen muttered.

 

He really had no intention of getting within touching distance of the man at this point. He felt freaked out and jittery and wanted distance to sort things out.

 

"Take your time baby boy, meanwhile I'll just steal kisses from you," the merc with a mouth sniggered and Peter groaned in frustration.

 

Of course, he would.

 

"You can call me Wade by the way," the man suddenly said and Peter stiffened, eyes going a bit wide.

 

"You don't have to tell me your name," the teen blurted.

 

"Oh? Kinky. We don't have to take off the suits either except you know, necessary parts. And no I don't need your name. Mines kind of easy to get if you bothered doing some research and harassed the right people anyway. And you don't have to use it, but just in case. Wade Wilson. Did you realize you can't get a bank account or a credit card using a superhero alias?" the man rambled on.

 

"What sane person would even try?! Wait you're not one of those, are you?" Peter said snarky and the mercenary chuckled.

 

"Oh, attitude. I figured I could always prove my identity by chopping off a finger for them. It grows back, you know? Takes about two hours, wanna see?" he chirped and he was suddenly holding a really big knife and spreading his other hand on the ground.

 

The teen made a choked noise and grabbed the hand holding the knife in an almost crushing grip.

 

"Of course not! I'm eating and it should bloody hurt no matter what!" he exclaimed.

 

"Yeah sure, but the pain you can get used to," Deadpool shrugged and dropped the knife to catch it with his free hand.

 

Before Peter was quite aware of it, their grips had changed and his wrist was grabbed instead. He made an embarrassing noise as he was suddenly pulled forward hard enough to make him straddle the mercenary's lap.

 

"Hiya," Deadpool grinned and his arms were already hugging Peter's waist and both hands were already inching down his buttocks.

 

He smacked the man hard. Really hard.

 

*****  
  
He was eating a late Saturday breakfast the day after. Both he and Aunt May had been up way too late. She anxiously waiting for him, again, despite him texting her. He getting home late because that was what he did when swinging around. His phone chimed and he glanced at it. A message from Wade.

 

He stared at it for a while. Wade. It was a very fitting name somehow. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. Sure Deadpool told him he didn't need to reveal anything about his identity and Peter didn't intend to do that. Ever. It was far too dangerous. Deadpool... Wade was a far more dangerous character than Spider-Man. Everyone knew you'd get a bullet through your head messing with Deadpool. Messing with Spider-Man would get you a beating and jail time.

 

                      You awake, Sweetums?

 

"How's your stalker?" Aunt May smiled from across the newspaper.

 

Peter made a slight suffering noise.

 

"Obnoxious," he muttered as the phone chimed again.

 

                      Wanna patrol tonight? Got a tip on a drug deal going down.

                      Some eyes and ears on the wall would be nice.

 

Peter chewed his cereal really slowly and contemplated that. Sounded like it also could lead to some good photos for the Bugle so he sent away a thumbs-up icon.

 

"Obnoxious disturbing or obnoxious cute?" May asked.

 

Peter blinked and looked up. She was having that teasing expression of hers.

 

"Both?" he suggested and rubbed his hair.

 

"I don't know, he is just getting touchy," he muttered.

 

He regretted mentioning it as her gaze turned worried and serious. Ah, he hated worrying her so.

 

"It's not bad and I guess I'm not discouraging him really. I just... feel confused," he muttered and poked in his cereal.

 

Aunt May smiled gently and leaned back.

 

"Because you're not ready for a new partner or because he's a guy?"

 

Peter thought about it for a while before glancing up at her. His cheeks were coloring slightly. This was always embarrassing, even if they had talked about Gwen the same way. Who else would he talk to? Uncle Ben was not there anymore and the question was if he wouldn't have talked to May anyway.

 

"I don't think... I care that he's a guy?" he said hesitantly as he tasted the expression.

 

Did he mind? He had no references except Gwen and maybe Harry. But his childhood crush on Harry was just that. Childhood. When you were a six-year-old love was a much simpler thing. There was no real deep complexity to the emotions and absolutely no sexual longing. So…?

 

"What if... we, you know, and in the middle I just… can't?" he blurted and could feel the heat rise in his face.

 

"If Gwen had told you to stop in the middle, what would you have done?" Aunt May asked very carefully and he looked up.

 

It was obvious. He would have stopped. In a heartbeat.

 

"But that's different..." he whined.

 

"Would you have thought badly of her?"

 

"Of course not!" Peter exclaimed and looked away.

 

"It's' still different," he muttered.

 

"Are you afraid he'll get violent?" May asked and again she had that deep, serious, worried look and Peter could imagine her itching to call the cops.

 

He thought about that. As Spider-Man he didn't have to worry about his partner getting violent. He could defend himself. He thought hard of Deadpool, Wade. He didn't think the man would get violent. He hoped. Frustrated of course. Violent? What did that mean? He'd draw a gun and start shooting? No way. Not stopping then? Peter made a grimace. Alright, he could picture Deadpool insisting, that he could.

 

"No, I don't think he will? Maybe?" he muttered and sighed.

 

"What if he wants like an actual relationship and I'm not quite ready for it?" he groused.

 

Aunt May smiled gently.

 

"Peter..."

 

He looked up.

 

"You're thinking too much. You can't stay in your safe shell forever. If you want to spread your wings again you need to just let go at times and trust your gut to make the right choice once you're in the air," she explained.

 

The teen sighed. It was ironic she made such a perfect analogy for him. He understood what she was saying. He wondered, wryly, if she would say the same things if she knew the whole truth.

 

"I've been thinking of maybe getting a small apartment close to The Bugle," he mumbled suddenly.

 

He could see her tense from the corner of his eyes. The silence stretched and he kept staring down at the table.

 

"I suppose that would save on travel time," she said finally in a strangled voice.

 

He looked up and while she was smiling bravely her eyes were blank. Guilt hit his gut like a fist.

 

"Yeah I mean... in the weeks it would. Something small where I could sleep and wash up you know? And on the weekends I'd come back here?" he said quickly and almost stumbled over his words.

 

She was silent for a while.

 

"How will you afford that?"

 

"Working more at the Daily Bugle," he said firmly.

 

She stayed silent again and he eyed her.

 

"Or you know, I could not and save money instead," he said hastily.

 

"I'll help you with rent on one condition," she said suddenly and firmly.

 

Peter looked up a bit wide-eyed.

 

"Huh?"

 

"Go back to school," she said softly almost pleadingly.

 

Peter froze up and he wasn’t sure he was even breathing for a while. He looked down. Go back to school huh? He hadn't even thought about school for... months. So caught up in Spider-Man and the Daily Bugle and anything that was not Gwen or distracted him from Gwen. But maybe it was time?

 

"Could we have a trial period of like 6 months?" he suggested.

 

"If you quit school you come back home again," she argued.

 

"Deal," he said with a soft smile he'd learned from her and she returned it.

 

 


	8. Grief

 

* * *

 

It had been a year already. He didn't understand how a year had already passed by. It didn't feel like a year. It still felt like yesterday.

 

He stared at the grave. He knew every inch of it by now. He'd brought her favorite flowers and wrapped a black silk band around them. There was burnt out candles and other fresh flowers around the base of the stone.

 

"Hi Gwen," he whispered in a choked voice.

 

Tears were already obscuring his eyes and as he sat down, legs folded in a tailor seat, the strength left him. He hadn't cried for her since... he didn't remember when. There was a time there were he cried every day. When the hole in his chest was likely to suffocate him. When he lived in stark denial and refused to accept it. Watching her grave hadn't really helped. Watching her speech had helped a little bit. The denial had been impossible to keep up. He'd been forced to accept reality.

 

"I've met this dude. Your father would hate him," he murmured.

 

He hung his head and ground the palms of his hands into his eyes. His throat seized up and his chest constricted. Captain Stacy, Gwen, Uncle Ben... All because of him. He was holding his breath and clenching his jaw so hard it hurt. It didn't matter though. It was nothing compared to the emotional pain. A stark, naked, black canvas of reality. Of loss and regret and a surreal, manic moment of refusing to accept that reality.

 

An anguished noise forced itself from his struggling body. Not real, not real, not real. He'd read somewhere that one stage of grief was denial. Nowhere did it say that the stages weren't like the levels in a game or chapters in a book. They didn't follow each other in a fashionable order.

 

He could feel his own mind deny the stark reality and at the same time, it bitch slapped him straight back into the gruesome, cold, agonizing truth. Captain Stacy, Gwen, Uncle Ben. Each a grief of their own. Each representing separate stages.

 

Why should he keep going? Nothing mattered anymore. It wasn't, Peter knew, depression with suicidal thoughts. He simply didn't care. He didn't care enough to bother about suicide.

 

He sobbed and whimpered and his breathing was coming hard and ragged now as his body struggled to provide him oxygen.

 

When you got sad because you hurt yourself or you were bullied or you watched a sad movie it was different. If you cried at all you got exhausted in the end. The tears stopped, the pain stopped because it got out of you. It didn't resonate in your body.

 

Grief, Peter learned, was a different beast entirely.

 

The pain didn't seem to stop. It came in waves. High crests where you squirmed in anguish and didn't think you'd ever be able to coop again, then valleys with a sort of numb nothingness of calm. Then the next crest came once your never inactive brain spun again and you were thrown back into a pit of emotional pain that left you shaking and wrecked.

 

This emotional torment could keep going for what felt like an eternity. In reality, it might only be thirty minutes at its worst. You simply didn't grow exhausted because that cresting pain was enough to drive you insane.

 

He was hunched over as if the very gravity had grown ten or twenty times worse. He wallowed in the emotional wreckage that was his soul and mind. To tired now and too *used* to it to get another crest. Just thinking about it made his breathing hitch and every muscle he had twitch to tense. The muscles in his face went to pull into the grimace of grief again. He didn't let it though.

 

He'd gotten good at distracting his own mind. Of staring at anything really. He stared at the grass and all the shade of green in it. Nothing more and nothing less. It could be a wall or a ceiling or a star or a pencil.

 

Peter stood, jerkily and heavily. Monotony was not good. Walking like this was no good. Getting on his skateboard and rolling onwards while flipping with his phone was good. It forces him to focus and use his brain to something else than thoughts. He was slow and sluggish, he knew that, but he didn't want to be fast. He didn't have that kind of energy.

 

Swinging between the skyscrapers was semi-good. It was becoming too easy for him. His mind could wander. So he closed his eyes instead and challenged that ridicules spider-sense to guide him. *That* required a level of focus you only found in say brain surgeons. Or chess masters at the world finals. It took Peter to a high level of concentration and mind-power he hadn't ever used before being bitten by a radioactive spider.

 

He breathed in and flipped. His senses immediately tingled to tell him about the ground rushing towards him. As he swung an arm out to shoot his web it was with a slow precision he didn't usually exude. He caught the web and his senses told him to twist away from where that was. He flung himself high, high, high and the feeling of being weightless was exhilarating. Even more so with his eyes closed. As he caught another web he immediately sent out a second to swing himself away from a house.

 

It was getting late and the sun was going down as he settled on top of the staircase house on a roof. He drew up his knees close to him and crossed his arms on top of his knees. Aunt May would probably get worried unless he sent her a text soon or something. They would go apartment hunting tomorrow and he was having second thoughts. It would be an unnecessary extra economic strain for her. That hadn’t been his plan. He had to remind himself she had offered this with the deal about going back to school. Also, it was only a six-month trial period. Maybe he could simply move back full time again.

 

The sun was throwing the sky into fire colors and lit up the clouds. It was really beautiful. He hadn't ever really appreciated New York before he'd been able to watch her from the top of the skyline.

 

"Incoming!"

 

Peter jolted at the sudden yell. Out of seemingly nowhere Deadpool came sprinting towards him. Three simple leaps and then he vaulted up onto the staircase house to end up sitting perfectly beside Peter, legs hanging off the side and dangling as if he hadn't just landed there. Peter blinked.

 

"Hi!" the mercenary grinned and waved his hand and kicked his legs.

 

That... had been an impressive display of acrobatics.

 

"Hi," he said and waved back.

 

Peter felt torn. He wasn't so sure he could endure the man's company when he wanted solitude. He already felt emotionally raw and Deadpool had that way of getting you riled up. The assassin leaned forward and tilted his head a little.

 

"Ya ok there sweet-cheeks?" he crooned.

 

Peter wanted to roll his eyes because of course Wade would pick up on it and ask.

 

"Fine, what're you doing here?" he said instead to try and redirect the conversation from himself.

 

"You looked wobbly so I followed. Thought maybe some bad guy had gotten a lucky shot at you," Deadpool chirped and kicked his legs again.

 

"Wobbly?" Peter asked for clarification.

 

"Nu-huh. Sorta..." Deadpool said and made weird gestures in the air.

 

"Wobbly on the webs. All three of us agreed and let me tell you, that happens once every third century!"

 

Peter felt a bit hot under the mask. So someone had been watching. It still unnerved him knowing Deadpool stalked him.

 

"You stalked me again?"

 

"Ugh, that's such an ugly word..." the man groaned.

 

"Actually no. I was doing good! Walked by these brat gangbangers. Six on three execution-style so I kicked some ass and bagged and tagged the six delinquents. Save the day I did! Good Deadpool!" the man said cheerfully and the man was beaming behind his mask.

 

"Then these three ungrateful gnats went and BAM BAM BAM killed the others!" he continued as he made his hands into guns.

 

"What the fuck dude! That's not cool taking another man's kill! Especially when I didn't even maim those guys and I saved those others and fuck that shit. My bagging and tagging and my kills and the little fuckers better cough up the money owed me! I'm doing no freebies in this town! They got twenty-four hours to cough up the cash or I'll chainsaw their asses..."

 

Peter blinked and watch the city while shaking his head in both amusement and incredulity. Only Deadpool managed to do a good thing and have it turn upside down on him.

 

"Owe you? But you helped out of free will and those guys didn't have a hit on their heads," he pointed out.

 

"Baby Boy, who are you talking too? Don't you know I'm a famous badass mercenary? I just witnessed a murder and the fucking brats had the gall to give me attitude. On top of that, I saved their skinny asses so the way I see it that's three hits even if I didn't un-alived someone. I do bodyguard jobs too, you know?"

 

"Infamous."

 

"Whatever. Point is Good Deadpool, bad gangbangers."

 

It hit Peter again, because he was still in that dark-reality-mental-shock state, that he was sitting beside a killer. A man fully capable of maiming and/or murdering people. He shouldn't feel as appalled as he suddenly did because he'd done these mental gymnastics before. This was Deadpool. This was Wade. A violent, violent killer. But... Peter paused and stroked his masked lips along the edges of his hidden web shooter. Not a killer-killer. Not a serial killer. Not a murderer like that.

 

"So, what was up with that wobbly web display?" Deadpool suddenly asked and leaned into Peter's line of sight.

 

Ugh, back on that again.

 

"Just goofing around and testing my limits," he said with a shrug.

 

"Limits of what? Trust me baby boy, I know how you look when you twist, swing, sling, torque, fly that sexy booty of yours and you looked like a sloth on a fishing line," the merc said unflatteringly.

 

Peter felt the heat intensify in his cheeks. Yeah, not his most graceful moment but way, way better than the first time he swung on a bloody web so thin he could barely feel it in his hand.

 

"That happens when you fly blind," he retorted dryly.

 

"Huh? You've gone blind?" the merc asked and waved a hand in front of Peter's face. The teen caught the hand and straightened up some.

 

"I was testing my spider-sense to see how accurate it could be," he said with a shrug.

 

"Figured some blind flying was a good test."

 

He expected some joke or sugar gushing awing from the man but was instead meet with eerie silence and staring from Deadpool's part; which was always more intimidating than the man's chattering. He could almost feel the gaze behind the mask scrutinizing him and it made him feel ten times more self-conscious.

 

"That's cool... I guess."

 

Peter felt a bit deflated and still extremely self-conscious. Deadpool was still staring at him in silence and it unnerved him to no ends. So he looked away.

 

"Yeah, well, it was doable," he muttered and hugged his knees again.

 

He wasn't in the mood and the merc was weirding him out. His spider-sense made a light tingle and he tensed the same second as:

 

"Hug!"

 

Wade flung himself around Peter and the brunet yelped as the movement made them overbalance and fall off the staircase house roof. He twisted automatically to land on his feet. Deadpool twisted with him and Peter yelped again as he was thrown around to make him end up on his back. His spider-sense was making very feeble attempts at giving him a heads-up which was the reason he knew Deadpool was playing. Much good it was doing! Deadpool was wrapped around his waist and chuckling.

 

"Spidey booty!"

 

It was the teen’s only warning before a large hand squeezed his buttock.

 

"Pool!" he growled and slapped the man's head before trying to twist out of the impromptu hug.

 

"Deadpool hug attack!"

 

Peter huffed as the man easily grabbed his waist and flung him around to the merc's other side so Peter ended up on his stomach instead. He yelped as his buttock was slapped painfully before the man made a theatrically evil laughter and tried hugging the teen again.

 

"That's it!" Peter hissed.

 

He bucked up and made Deadpool yelp this time as Peter easily lifted them both three feet clear in the air. He contorted his body into a twist and Wade was flung on his back this time, hard enough that the breath left his lungs. Somehow he'd gotten a grip on Peter's wrist and he wasn't letting go. Before Peter manages to twist free the ungodly quick and the surprisingly strong man threw him around again and Peter's spider-sense warned him about the imminent danger of face-meet-roof.

 

He caught himself on the fingertips on one hand and toes, body frozen and held off the ground. Deadpool had followed him and vaulted up on his back. Peter hissed as he again was almost thrown around but instead ended up on his back on Deadpool's chest. The merc tangled their legs and arms together in some bloody hold and when Peter yanked to get loose he instead yelped in pain. His joints were pressured awkwardly even for him and Deadpool had him in such a hold that the more strength Peter used the more pain he caused himself. The only upside to this embarrassing situation was that Peter knew none of the grips were deadly and even Wade needed both hands to hold him, which meant he could get no weapon.

 

Peter squirmed slightly until he felt every fucking bulge on the man rub into his back and especially that particular bulge up against his buttock. That for sure was no gun. His heart rate ramped up and so did his breathing and God, he was grateful for his mask because he could feel the heat from his blush.

 

"The hell Wade, get off me!" he snarled.

 

Deadpool was sniggering gleefully against the back of Peter's head but he wasn't moving.

 

"Aw, come on baby boy, you can get out of this," he crooned but he was decidedly smug.

 

Peter hissed and flexed again. He only managed to cause himself more pain. Damn it. How strong was Deadpool anyway? He was wicked fast, Peter already knew this.

 

"Not up to this Deadpool, you're pissing me off," Peter growled to mask his growing frustration at not getting loose.

 

"I'm up, way, way up!" the merc chirped and rocked his hips pointedly into Peter's buttocks.

 

"Pool!" Peter snapped and thankfully the merc went motionless but he was still chuckling.

 

"Come on sweet-cheeks, you're barely trying," the merc taunted.

 

Peter hissed again and he did try. He swore on everything that was holy that he did try. He did not have a pain threshold that made him able to pop shoulders or break bones. He almost managed to get a leg free and Wade immediately had him trapped again even harder like a bloody octopus.

 

"You suck at this kid, never play at being a fly, the other little spiders will eat you alive. Do they eat flies alive anyway?" Deadpool said conversationally as if he wasn't even straining.

 

Peter knew he was because the merc huffed and grunted at times when Peter struggled to get *anything* loose. The teen took a breather and watched the sky. Stars were starting to hint behind some lighter wisps of clouds.

 

"A spider typically kills their prey with venom before wrapping them in a cocoon. Some venoms start to digest the prey and some just kill," Peter explained.

 

"You got venom, Spidey? You could sure as hell use some now," Deadpool chirped.

 

"I don't need it to wring your neck," Peter responded with a growl.

 

"Gotta get loose first! Na-na-na-na," the merc taunted.

 

"Seriously, let go," Peter said more serious now. His joints were starting to wail at him.

 

"You just say ‘I give up’ sweet-cheeks," the mercenary said happily.

 

"Another way is to tap the floor or a part of your sparring partner but since I'm not letting your sticky little hands-free you don't have that option."

 

Peter hissed again.

 

"Like hell! Just let go of me!"

 

"Nope! Magic words please!"

 

It prompted Peter to struggle for a good five-ten minute and for his joints to be crying bloody murder at him. He had to face the reality that there was no getting loose. Not like this.

 

"I give up," he snarled and was surprisingly immediately let go and aided in rolling free.

 

Peter hugged his own arms and groaned as blood flow returned to them. Wade was rolling to his side and stretching out, head propped in one hand.

 

"Let's do that again!" he said enthusiastically.

 

"Let's not," Peter glowered.

 

His limbs thanked him gratefully.

 

"No seriously, let's do it again. I can't believe you couldn't get out of that. Where did you learn how to fight?" the man asked before rolling to his back and making a kick up.

 

Deadpool had a mouth on him. More than that, the mouth had a very thin filter and brutal honesty was one of the things that seemed to never be filtered. Peter bit his tongue at the scalding criticism and feeling of embarrassment at said criticism. He wanted to lash out and web the man up just to prove he had been taken by surprise and hadn't really expected that level of play. He held his tongue as he worked through the scalding feelings. The truth was Deadpool and caught him and pinned him down.

 

Where did he learn to fight? He hadn't. Peter's mind buckled as he repeated that to himself. Everything was instinct and a few thrown punches between himself and Flash and honestly, he'd just been a punching bag until he got his powers.

 

"Baby Boy?" Wade asked as he popped his neck and stared down at the crouching arachnid.

 

He then hunched too and titled his head. Peter wasn't sure what to say. He could just blow it off though, no need to admit just how lousy...

 

"Holeee shit, you have no training do you? Like at all. That's all that spider-sense, isn't it? Makes sense I guess. See what I did there?" Deadpool sniggered.

 

...of course, Deadpool would figure that out. Peter made a sharp exhale in annoyance and straightened up.

 

"I learn as I go," he admitted.

 

"Great! So let's go again!" Deadpool chirped happily and followed Peter towards the edge.

 

The teen intended to go home and lick his wounded ego so he could consider taking Deadpool up on his offer. His spider-sense tingled though and he stepped out of the way. Deadpool shouted a "weeeee" as he sailed past Peter and over the ledge of the house. Peter reacted before the merc's feet had even vanished from sight. He caught him in a web and hauled the man up until he had Deadpool suspended over the edge, crouched down.

 

"You seriously thought that would work?" he asked skeptically.

 

"Got you the first time!"

 

Peter huffed. Deadpool climbed back up on the edge beside him and the teen half reluctantly sat back down.

 

"Seriously though, how'd you become Spider-Man?" Wade asked more sincerely and Peter stiffened.

 

"No, no! Wait! I mean, no details just like… general. Footnotes. Summary. Review. I mean what makes a hero a hero? It's not like you're getting paid and you get shit for what you do so obviously you're driven by something else," the mercenary quickly added.

 

Peter released a deeply held breath.

 

"Will you tell me why you're a mercenary?" he suggested.

 

Wade shrugged.

 

"What's there to tell? Military background yadda-yadda, good at what I do but hate taking orders? Logical choice: mercenary," Deadpool said and kicked his legs again.

 

Peter bit his bottom lip for a while. He had the strongest longing to actually talk. It had been so, so, so long since he'd had anyone to truly talk to. Gwen...

 

He pushed that away immediately as the flimsy thought managed to choke him up instantaneously. He looked away from the merc's profile as he contemplated what to say. Deadpool was infuriatingly silent again even if he was kicking his legs softly.

 

"I..." Peter started but stopped.

 

What could he say without actually giving the man enough information to find his identity?

 

"I did some stupid things when my... powers manifested. People got hurt... People died," he said very, very softly.

 

Captain Stacy, Gwen, Uncle Ben.

 

He swallowed with a struggle as his chest started to clamp up again and his throat turned to an aching knot.

 

"With great power comes great responsibility. This was a motto someone close to me had and I understood the message too late and people got hurt because of my decisions," he continued softly.

 

He didn't look up but he could feel the merc's glance towards him.

 

"Someone close to you died," he stated.

 

It wasn't even a question, just a statement of facts. Peter made an acknowledging grunt. He expected the usual plethora of "I'm sorry", "That suck", "You're young, it'll heal over".

 

"Thing about grief it'll never really leave you. Especially if it's someone really close to you. It morphs and hides and gets pushed away but every time you pick it up to see if it's changed color yet it's still as butt ugly and painful. Like a fucking thorn that you can hide under pretty Band-Aids and painkillers but its' still just as painful and ugly underneath," Wade said solemnly.

 

Peter looked up more fully at that. That was a really good description. Had Wade lost people too? Peter drew up a knee close to him again and hugged it.

 

After that, the silence stretched and it wasn't even awkward.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So everyone experiences grief differently I think. There are plenty of different kinds of griefs and they all have different levels of effect on you.  
> If you are in a period of grief that is leaving you crippled at the moment, I feel for you and I hope you didn't read this chapter. When I was at a certain period in my grief I couldn't stand the sight of even the tags. When I wrote this I felt wounded.  
> However, writing is one of my ways to deal with things. It is not so much as getting an outlet as helping myself through the emotions I write about.
> 
> If you haven't experienced the kind of soul-ripping grief I have I'm glad but also hope you will come there at the end of your life. Because it will mean you've found true love, your soulmate, and hopefully spent a long and happy life with this person.


	9. Tony Stark

 

* * *

 

 

: : Whenever, wherever. We're meant to be together!   : :

 

It was a far too bright and warm day for red leather. Upon the roof, he was baking in it. Wade hummed along to White as he used his binoculars to scan the surrounding area.

 

* * He won't come today either * *

 

"Shut up, he was busy," Deadpool growled at the cynic voice.

 

* * Busy the last three times... * *

 

"Beside the point," he sing sang.

 

He refused to fall into the depression trap that was Yellow. Ever since he'd pushed his arachnid hero a tad too far with his wrestling stunt, Spidey had been elusive.

 

"It's like hunting a damn fairy," he muttered.

 

: :  I'll be there and you'll be near, And that's the deal my dear!  : :

 

Wade hummed along as he lowered the binoculars again to look at his watch. Only fifteen minutes past meeting time. He'd be stood up again? His gut churned. He hated, absolutely loathed, the idea of having pushed his hero away.

 

"Shouldn't have done that, you knew you shouldn't have," he muttered.

 

Why couldn't he for once just have some patience and fucking self-control?

 

* * Because you're a dirty, perverted, killing droid * *

 

Deadpool growled and wished he could pull his gun and shoot the little bastard.

 

: :  Thereover, hereunder, You'll never have to wonder  : :  


* * Shut the fuck up you malfunctioning Jukebox! He's not coming! * *

 

: :  WE CAN ALWAYS PLAY BY EAR, BUT THAT'S THE DEAL MY DEAR!!!!  : :

 

"I'll blow my brains out,  so help me God! Shut the fuck up both of you!" Wade snarled.

 

A "thwip" thankfully interrupted him and he had never been as happy to see the blue and red spandex dressed hero make a perfect landing on the roof.

 

"SPIDEY!" he exclaimed loud enough to drown down the voices. He held out his arms, he needed a hug. Like right now.

 

"Sorry for being late..." the hero said and gave him that look over that told Wade Spidey knew exactly how high strung he was.

 

He really tried to not move forward, he swears! But then his arms were full of squirming spandex spider and he hugged the thin figure hard enough to earn him a slight yelp.

 

"I swear Yellow was going to make me shoot my brains out and White has been singing Shakira the last twenty-four hours. I know every song by heart now," he rambled on.

 

"Get off! You're crushing my ribs!" Spidey squeaked and squirmed mightily.

 

Deadpool let go and had he been in a manga he'd have a tail wagging crazily and big perked ears.

 

"Sorry, but we were getting worried you'd not show again," he chirped.

 

"Sorry, I was busy..." Spidey muttered and took a step back and readjusted the backpack.

 

Wait, backpack? Deadpool grabbed one of the straps. A real backpack, not a web-pack.

 

"A Backpack? You know if you need something to carry tools in I have way better ideas than this. How old is it?" he groused and kept tugging in the worn looking thing.

 

Spider-Man slapped his hand off.

 

"I'm moving so stop being hysterical and stop bullying my backpack. It's served me well for years!" the hero quipped and grabbed the shoulder strap defensively.

 

Wade chuckled because it was actually cute until he noticed something else and got behind the man.

 

"Oho? A skateboard!?" he exclaimed and tugged in it.

 

Until Spidey turned in that quick way he was capable of.

 

"Yes, a skateboard. I do have a life besides swinging."

 

"With skateboards? Are you open for a threesome?" he leered and Spidey groaned.

 

* * Cheap..* *

 

: : Awesome! We want to see Spidey skate! : :

 

"Food!" Wade exclaimed and walked over to the bag he'd almost forgotten.

 

He threw it over his shoulder and knew the hero would catch it.

 

"It's all yours, I already ate my part, I was starving," he informed before raising his binoculars again.

 

: : Hey, ask about the apartment. We could totally get him a moving present : :

 

* * Let's not, he'll accuse us of stalking him again * *

 

Spider-Man dropped his backpack to the roof before getting down in a tailor-seat at the edge of it and started eating, in sight of Deadpool.

 

"Sorry for not showing the last times."

 

: : Ah! He apologized! He loves us! He's afraid he hurt us! : :

 

* * He's being a normal decent human being... * *

 

"It's' cool, you texted," Wade said with a shrug and lowered the binoculars.

 

He eyed the hero and felt that familiar tingling arousal through his entire body. Spider-Man had rolled up his mask and taken off his gloves before starting to eat. Wade itched to hold the hands. To draw their fingertips across each other. To stroke that smooth skin and map out the layers of the hands. They looked so damn smooth. As if they hadn't ever done any hard work. Never seen any strife. No busted knuckles, no cuts or scrapes. Of course, that could be imagined from a distance.

 

: : "So where's the new address?" : : he chirped and he wanted to smack himself.

 

White!

 

"You need to get me far drunker before I tell you that," the hero snipped back amusedly.

 

"Oho? Was that permission to get you high again?" Wade leered and it earned him a chuckle.

 

After he’d found the arachnid on a roof obviously screaming depressed, things had changed a little he thought. They were more relaxed with each other. Or rather Spider-Man was more relaxed with him. Wade also felt pretty privileged to have been allowed to see that side of the hero. Spidey could have easily just flipped him off and swung away but had opted to endure his presence.

He looked back into the binoculars to distract him from the sight of a long finger being licked clean. Good timing too because he caught sight of a very odd thing.

 

"Oh, robot kittens!" he exclaimed with a chuckle.

 

"Robot what?"

 

Spider-Man rose to stand beside him and Deadpool handed over the binoculars. It took him only slight time to see the robot in question.

 

"Looks more like a Hindu robot god," Spider-Man pointed out.

 

"But it has ears!"

 

"That's antennas..."

 

The hero was stuffing the burrito in his mouth as he pulled on his gloves again. Wade supposed there was some hurry seeing as not one or two but twenty of those little things started popping up. He put the binoculars away.

 

* * Better prepare the guns with lethal bullets * * Yellow dryly pointed out and Wade hastily changed the clips.

 

: : Robots! Robots! Robots! Not ninja robots… : : White sing-sang.

 

"We better hurry, hang on," Spider-Man said shortly as he pulled his mask back down and stood at the edge of the roof.

 

"I never thought you'd ask," Wade chirped as he grabbed onto the slim back and shoulders.

 

*****  
  
Real life Hindu-god-robots. They were not really big, they reached Peter to his shoulders unless you counted the antennas. They had six arms and two legs and an assortment of weaponry that made Deadpool an absolute mess of giddiness. Until they both realize the little fuckers had a self-destruct mechanism with enough explosive power to leave a medium sized crater or level a house. It was not just twenty, there seemed to be hundreds of them.

 

Every hero of the city had gone out to stop the swarm of killing robots. To Peter it felt very weird seeing, hearing and knowing most of the Avengers were up in arms and chasing the robots, while he and Deadpool were working tandem to deal with their end of things. He'd seen Iron Man, of course, and heard his blasting rock music.

 

He'd seen Captain America at some point and knew Black Widow and Hawkeye was in the mix too. Peter was too busy to be putting more attention on them. Any other day he'd be thrilled to watch the team work together or even do a semi team-up with them. But today he was too busy not getting killed by lasers, sonic soundwaves, flesh ripping bullets or claws/knives to care.

 

It took him a while to figure out a safe way of dismantling the things. There was a hatch at the back of their skull that once opened he could tear out the "brain", the computer, and stop them that way without activating the self-destruct mechanism. Not to say it was as easy as that.

 

He got burnt, singed, beaten, nearly stabbed and sliced enough times he wished he could simply grab a machinegun and go loose. Thankfully Deadpool was vocalizing what they both thought.

 

"Mutha-fucking, oil-sucking, scrapheap-jolty-fuck!" the mercenary snarled as he riddled the skull of one robot with so many bullet holes it destroyed the computer and stopped the self-destruct mechanism.

 

Peter wasn't sure how large the robot invasion was but it was huge. As the fighting dragged on and on he knew heroes and police was hard pressed to subdue the robots and save civilians.

 

At one point Deadpool had his back and held off a barrage of the shitty little metal heads as Peter cleared an overturned school bus full of kids, the driver and a teacher.

 

At another point he got in close contact with whom he assumed was Ant-Man but he wasn't sure since only his spider sense told him something was there but he couldn't see it before a robot malfunctioned.

 

It did die down eventually, or Peter and Deadpool had simply gotten too far from the rest of the fighting. It was quiet though. They had ended up in an industrial area and trashed half the inside of a warehouse as they took down the last robots in the area. Peter disabled the last one, or so he hoped. He'd gotten really good at it at this point. Finding easier and quicker ways until he had mastered the maneuver of getting at the robots back and ripping open the hatch before snagging one single wire that shut it down instead of ripping out the entire computer. Much quicker.

 

He was tired. He ached and he was hungry and he hoped to never see a robot for the rest of his life. At least not this kind. His fingers ached and throbbed. Despite super strength, skin and bones and tendons weren't made to rip through metal as repeatedly as he had that day.

 

“Hey, good job,” a metallic voice rang out followed by the thrusters landing.

 

Peter looked up as he straightened. Iron Man. The man of iron himself. He blinked a bit in surprise and he couldn't help tensing a little. This was Iron Man after all; a billionaire and a founder of the Avengers. It was a tiny bit intimidating standing face to face with one.

 

“Saw what you did there,” the billionaire said and pointed at the dismantled robot.

 

Peter blinked and looked down. He wasn't usually tongue-tied but he knew that Tony Stark was also a genius and such a mind was seldom limited to one category of geniuses. He was scared anything he said or did would reveal anything of his identity.

 

“Uhu…”

 

“You into robotics?” the man asked hastily.

 

Peter floundered for a response, wondered what wouldn’t give hints about himself.

 

“Sorry, I’m Iron Man, Tony Stark,” the man plowed on and opened the helmet to show his face.

 

He held out his hand. Peter took it reflexively.

 

“Spider-Man…” he greeted in return.

 

“That’s your only name?”

 

“Only one I’ll say,” Peter said calmly and tried releasing the hand.

 

Iron Man held on though until Peter realized he’d have to use excessive force to get free. The billionaire's eyes were staring at him in such a scrutinizing way he wanted to crawl back into a dark corner and glare back. He felt like a bug under a microscope. Was he holding on intentionally to see Peter's reaction?

 

“I’m Deadpool!” the merc chirped happily and was suddenly just there.

 

Towering beside Peter's shoulder and slinging an arm around his shoulders before extending his own hand.

 

“Whoa!” Tony exclaimed and several gun mechanics whirred to life and zeroed in on the mercenary.

 

“Ookay!” Wade said and made a pirouette as he got away from Peter and Iron Man.

 

“You keep at least one hundred feet away, shoo,” Iron Man said calmly but strictly and seriously not joking by the way his weaponry was following Deadpool around.  


“Fine, whatever, go boy-bond, I’ll be over here playing with myself!” the anti-hero snarked and made a few more pirouettes and flips before vanishing among the labyrinth of shelves in the warehouse.

 

Peter sighed and rubbed his face. He’d almost forgotten how utterly infamous Deadpool was.

 

“You two are partners?” Tony asked and those dark sharp eyes were back on him.

 

“No, he just tends to follow me around at times,” Peter said wearily in reflex.

 

Once he did he groaned inwardly. Partner had translated to a relationship in his head, but you were also partner as in simply team-up. Like the Avengers. Seriously, he needs to get his head straight on his shoulders again.

 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark, I won’t tell you my name though and please lower your weaponry, it’s putting me on edge,” he said calmly.

 

His spider sense was going off and making him hyper-aware. Iron Man lowered his weaponry but Peter's senses were still high strung after such a long and intense battle.

 

“You ever need help with stalkers, call me,” Tony said casually and he was eyeing Peter again. Peter had the feeling he was somehow being scanned.

 

“I can handle my own stalkers,” he said confidently.

 

A card was held out to him anyway and he took it by reflex. It looked like a private number.

 

“Yeah well, if you want to talk to the good guys then, just dial. Anytime,” the billionaire said with a shrug that barely translated through the suit.

 

Peter admitted that gave him a thrill.

 

“I’ll think about it,” he agreed and got a curt nod in response.

 

"Or we could talk robotics. You working in the field somewhere? Or just tech-savvy? You picked apart those little droids real nice," the man continued.

 

Peter eyed him and smirked slightly.

 

"Teach savvy. I like your teach, Mr. Stark," he said with a nod and took a slight step backward.

 

Obviously, the man was good enough to read cues.

 

"Call me," he encouraged one more time.

 

Tony flipped the visor again and took off before another word and Peter watched him soar away, faster than he could ever hope to swing.

 

“Dude that was so awesome! He got a total crush on you!”

 

Deadpool was back out of nowhere and hanging an arm around his shoulders again as he snatched the card to read it.

 

“Don’t hang on me,” Peter groused.

 

“Think he could trace a phone boot if I left dirty messages?” the merc sniggered and Peter quickly snagged the card back.

 

“Yes I do and no you won’t. It’s my card. Get your own,” he said with the tone of a petulant child.

 

“Aw! Come on Spidey, don’t you know you should share your toys?” the man whined.

 

"It's not a toy," Peter argued and put the card away in a safe place.

 

"And don't hang on me," he repeated as he pushed the mercenary's arm off.

 

He yelped in pain as strong fingers kneaded into his aching shoulder.

 

"Saw that smack earlier, anything broken?" Wade asked before he let go.

 

Peter growled and glared as he tried massaging the ache from the area.

 

"No, pulled a muscle is all," he muttered.

 

"Dinner? I'll let you chose," Deadpool encouraged.

 

"I need to get my bag."

 

"If it's still in place."

 

Peter groaned in suffering. Hopefully, it would be.

 

*****  
  
The city was a littered mess of robots, craters, destroyed buildings, and roads. Peter didn't care. Let the Avengers deal with it for now. Who knew, maybe it was one of their enemies? For once Peter didn't have to feel the entire guilt of destroying property. They had swung by a hot dog stand and bought as much as a paper-bag could carry.

 

Thankfully his bag was still in place. They ate in unusual silence but Peter supposed Deadpool was also tired and/or hungry. The hot dogs vanished real quickly and Peter sent a reassuring text to his aunt. Deadpool grunted as he stretched out on his back, hands beneath his head. The entire afternoon and evening had passed already and stars were starting to twinkle up in the sky. Peter felt the growing exhaustion and weariness in his body. He wanted a hot long shower, some painkillers and twelve hours uninterrupted sleep. He could only imagine what his body must look like. He was sure his back was riddled with bruises in different shapes after being thrown around and getting bombarded with debris.

 

"So, I have a suggestion," Wade said after a while and Peter finished his hot dog before taking one more.

 

"Let me guess, it's kinky," he said with an arched eyebrow.

 

The man smirked. He still hadn't rolled down his mask in place.

 

"Well... depends really."

 

The teen let his dubious silence speak for him.

 

"So I was thinking you come back to my place and crash on my couch for tonight," he suggested.

 

Peter stiffened slightly and slowly finished his hot dog as he thought it over.

 

"I could just get home and sleep in a bed..." he said lowly.

 

"Uhu, because that's closer than my apartment," Wade said ironically, "Or is it?"

 

Peter narrowed his eyes. He couldn't, and Wade no doubt knew this, say yes or no to that question. That would reveal something about himself. Would it be so bad to do that then?

 

"See? Ten minutes and you could be resting somewhere nice, Baby boy."

 

Peter frowned. God. That sounded so nice at the moment.

 

"This is just a lead-in to you molesting me," Peter deadpanned and Deadpool winced.

 

"Yeah sorta maybe, hopefully?" the man said and manage to look like a begging puppy as he slowly sat up.

 

"But I can be good and keep hands off too," he rambled on quickly.

 

Peter sighed.

 

"Do you always get what you want?" he grumbled.

 

"Mostly," Deadpool smirked widely.

 


	10. Rock your world

* * *

 

 

By the time they swung into Deadpool's apartment, Peter wasn't sure this had been such a great idea after all. He was nervous. He was tired. He was jittery with residue adrenaline and expectations. Wade was seemingly acting normal. Rambling on about anything and telling the boxes to shut up before he accidentally tripped any of the booby traps.

 

"Stay here," he told Peter again as they were in the living room.

 

They had entered through the living room window like last time. The man disappeared into the apartment and after a while, that faint tickle of his spider-sense vanished as said booby traps were disarmed. Peter pulled out his phone and texted Aunt May that he'd stay in the city since transportation was dubious after this day.

 

Peter turned on a lamp and eyed the room more carefully than last time he'd been in it.

 

"You seriously have something rigged to explode in here?" he called out dubiously as he sneaked around the room and watched things.

 

"Yeah, and a machine gun ready to take out burglars," Deadpool called back.

 

Did he seem to be in the bedroom? Bathroom? The mercenary came around a corner. He'd stripped off all visible weaponry and was drinking from a water bottle. In his other hand, he was holding a large bottle of... something? Peter stiffened slightly and crooked his head a bit.

 

"Seriously? Explosives? Machine gun?"

 

"Yeah, I got stuff in here that shouldn't end up in the hands of common criminals. I worked hard for a lot of those babies!" Deadpool argued. He threw a second water bottle at Peter.

 

The teen easily caught it and unscrewed it to drink copious amounts. He hadn't realized how thirsty he got after those hot dogs. As he drank he eyed the other bottle while the mercenary got closer. He wiped his mouth and closed the water bottle.

 

"Nevermind," he huffed and walked towards the couch.

 

"You want a shower?" the mercenary asked calmly and the teen glanced over.

 

"If it's all-the-same, I'd just like to sleep," he said and kept eyeing that suspicious greenish translucent bottle.

 

"Fine by me, mind taking off the top, I know you got hit pretty badly by that exploding building," the man said and shook the bottle a little.

 

Peter arched an eyebrow.

 

"And that is...?"

 

"A little something of everything. Liniment and pain relief and healing balm all in one," Deadpool said with an obvious smirk in his voice.

 

He threw it over and the brunet caught it easily. It was all written in Chinese or Japanese or some other Asian language.

 

"Why do you have stuff like this? Don't you heal like instantly?" he asked honestly confused.

 

"I told you..."

 

"So you can play doctor, right," Peter filled in.

 

He jolted as the mercenary was suddenly standing chest to chest with him. How the bloody man could move so quickly was unnerving. His heart thrummed a quicker pace and his body stayed stiff as the bottles brushed against Wade's chest. He was standing far too close. Peter had known this. That tension had been between them both before and after the ridicules robot invasion. Also, he'd sort of made up his mind beforehand. To… let go and fly as Aunt May put it. Still; standing there, in the moment, he was nervous.

 

One big hand slowly slid around his neck to support him before their lips were slowly pushed together. The other firm hand stroked down his back to rest in the small of it. Peter shuddered and his eyes closed behind the mask as their lips moved slowly together. Kneading and rubbing. As Wade opened his mouth, Peter easily synchronized with him and their tongues slowly entered the play. His breath was coming short already and his body tingled.

 

Until the hand at his back pressed the palm into a sore spot. Then he jolted and made a pained grunt. The kiss broke but he was still held close.

 

"Trust me baby boy, let me get my hands on those bruises and you'll be in heaven," Wade murmured huskily.

 

"That's all?" Peter asked huskily back.

 

"Depends on how much you trust me," the man murmured and his voice was really sensual.

 

His rugged lips stroked Peter's lips and jaws. The hand at his neck kneaded slowly.

 

"Do you trust me, Spidey?" the mercenary murmured and it sounded serious and honest.

 

Peter hitched a little on his breath as the hand on his back trailed his spine to his tailbone. Did he?

 

"Yes," he answered and felt surer than he thought he would.

 

The kiss reignited and both hands traveled down his body to hook around his waist. Thumbs worked against his hip bones. He was slowly guided back towards the sofa. Peter felt a thrill travel through his body. Nerves and a little bit of fear and a huge part excitement. He felt awkward still holding the bottles.

 

Once by the sofa, the tingling kiss broke again. Wade took the bottles and put them on the table before he slid Peter's gloves off. He turned Peter's palms up and stroked large thumbs across fading scars, growing calluses, and the web shooter trigger.

 

"You do realize it's humanly impossible contorting your fingers the way you do when you trigger these, right?" the mercenary snorted.

 

Peter was having a hard time gathering his thoughts as the thumbs and fingers were kneading his palms and the meaty part of his thumbs. He didn't actually know he enjoyed that so much.

 

"It is? Are you sure?" he breathed and he was pretty sure his witty brain center was starting to close the office.

 

The man smirked before pushing the hero to sit on the sofa. Wade got on his knees on the floor and pushed between Peter's knees. His firm-wide torso and trimmed waist pushing in close and personal and Peter shuddered again. Every nerve connected to his skin seemed to ignite and hum. That line straight from his brain to his groin came alive too. They kissed again and Peter hesitantly put his naked hands against that wide, leather dressed chest. He had known before but never really consciously thought of it, but Wade was hot. Like fever hot to the touch. He could feel it once his hands were naked and he could stroke the rough leather.

 

He shuddered and arched in reflexive reaction as big hands trailed under the hem of the top part of his suit. They slid in under it and stroked up his back. He jolted and made a noise from pain as firm fingers pressed into hurtful spots. Yeah, that would not be sensual.

 

"I need this off and you on your stomach," Deadpool murmured against Peter's moist lips.

 

He blushed. He knew he did.

 

"Then just take it off," he groused and the man chuckled lowly.

 

As the top came off over his head his skin prickled from the brush of cool air. He could feel his nipples tighten up.

 

"Ouch," Wade murmured and he stroked a hand down Peter's side.

 

He glanced down marginally. He already knew the large blue/red/purple blotch would be there. He harshly grabbed the fingers as they started to prod harder.

 

"It's not broken, stop harassing it!" he snapped.

 

"You sure? Could be a small fracture."

 

"If it is, it is. There's nothing to do about it anyway," Peter said sharply and refused to let go of the hand until Deadpool relaxed and tried to withdraw.

 

"Ever thought about kevlar?" he asked as he leaned back to give Peter room to get his feet on the sofa.

 

"Too cumbersome and expensive," Peter muttered.

 

He clenched his jaws as he turned on his stomach and rested his head on his folded arms. His groin throbbed and tingled as it was pushed into the sofa. Deadpool made another noise before a big hand splayed across Peter's back.

 

"You look like someone shot you with a paintball bazooka," he said stiffly and wide leather covered fingers trailed several small bruises and some big.

 

Peter could feel it even when it was so lightly stroked.

 

"Not all of us heal instantly," he muttered.

 

Wade leaned back and slid off his own gloves before grabbing the bottle of Chinese liniment stuff.

 

"Hence kevlar, or a Michelin body suit. We could even paint it blue and red."

 

Peter jolted and made a hissed breath as cold, cold, coldness was spread across his back in a long string and then a snake pattern.

 

"It's frigging cold!"

 

"Are you a liniment virgin?" Wade chuckled.

 

"Shut up..." Peter muttered.

 

Of course, he'd used liniment once or twice but he never saw the benefit of it and it was sticky and a hassle working with. That wasn't the reason his cheeks started blushing and he hides more in his arms. Virgin. Yes, he was damn it. Unless you counted kissing and oral and fingers and hands as a breach of that.

 

He jolted as Wade started stroking his back. He seemed hypersensitive to the hands and imagined feeling their rugged texture. Wade stroked across multiple sores and bruises and Peter gasped and tensed up.

 

"God... damn it," he cursed as he struggles to relax instead of tensing up.

 

"It's the punishment you get for not wearing body armor. Seriously, at least leather. It would still have protected you more than this spandex. I'm not complaining. Spandex has some great, great perks," Deadpool hummed in great enjoyment.

 

Peter gritted his teeth as the liniment was stroked across his entire back and wide fingers massaged and gently stroked across the worst places.

 

"Leather is expensive and I don't think I would be able to move as good," he muttered.

 

He tensed up and squirmed as a wide palm rubbed and massaged and put pressure on a throbbing area.

 

"You don't know what you're talking about Sweetums, I'll get you a full leather costume with Kevlar details and you'll love me for it," Wade hummed.

 

"Yow! Careful!" Peter yelped.

 

"Seems broken."

 

"It's not! Stop poking at it!" Peter cursed as the big fingers harassed the backside of his lower rib cage.

 

"Have I ever told you, you have the cutest back side this side of the moon?" Deadpool hummed happily.

 

"Yes, countless times," the teen complained as he struggled to relax again.

 

To him, it seemed to take long but probably it didn't. Peter was quite surprised at the first signs of pain relief and numbing. It started in the less damaged areas until it encompassed his entire back. He almost felt numb. Deadpool was putting quite some pressure on his back now and there was no pain. More like a strain and ache in his muscles but that almost felt pleasurable.

 

Peter realized he’d started to doze off when the hands vanished from his back. Wade was whipping them clean on a towel and was then opening and closing them.

 

“Oh, so that’s why it said use gloves when using… How am I supposed to feel up Spidey if I did?”

 

“…”

 

“That’s not being perverted. Perverted would have been using oil instead of liniment,” Deadpool sniggered lowly.

 

It was sometimes really amusing watching the man hold a completely… rational conversation with himself. Peter was glancing at him from the corner of his eyes as Wade tried working the feeling back into his temporarily numbed hands.

 

“We’re not sadists!” Deadpool suddenly exclaimed.

 

“Shut up,” he then hissed lowly.

 

“Yellow or white?” Peter muttered and the merc jumped.

 

“I swear you were asleep.”

 

“Almost,” Peter grunted as he tried moving to his side.

 

He got a very slight feeling of thrill when he felt completely lethargic. His back was entirely numb which translated to bad muscle control. He got on his side and sighed. Deadpool seemed to be eating him with his eyes and he got a jolt down the center of his body again.

 

“Is that stuff even legal? Seems really strong…” he muttered.

 

“Of course it is! I bought it fair and square,” Deadpool argued.

 

“On… the black market?”

 

“It was a market,” Deadpool agreed and was straightening up.

 

He slid a firm hand around the teen’s neck and one around his thigh to easily shift him to his back and more in the middle of the sofa. Peter tensed up as the man then gracefully rolled into the sofa to hover over him. They kissed before he got a word out and his hands automatically pushed against that really wide firm chest. The hand on his thigh stroked and caressed him down to a knee before urging his knee up to hook around the man’s straight waist.

 

Peter's breathing picked up, his nerves picked up. Deadpool didn’t bully his way close but damn he was skillful. Peter barely realized how heavy hips came to be pressed between his legs and their groins pressed against each other. His breathing hitched and the small of his back tried to arch. The friction really sent a jolt down his pleasure center. The kiss turned wet and sloppy as he had a hard time concentrating on it all. Even more so as rugged fingertips traced his body. From his thigh to his waist, up across his chest. A nipple was flickered and he didn’t even know he actually liked the sensation.

 

Their groins rocked harder together and Peter automatically spread his legs a bit more to get enough leeway to rock back up against the damn hard leather groin. He was getting hard. Rapidly. Damn hormones. In the back of his head, his thoughts swirled and spun to a knot of excitement and anxiousness. The kiss broke and he shuddered as Wade stroked his side firmly down to his thigh. His marred lips traveled across Peter's jaw to his collarbones. He rocked up against the hard body, even more so as strong fingers and large palm cupped his buttock.

 

He shuddered and his breathing came a bit harder still. Teeth and lips and wet tongue traveled across his chest as his buttock was kneaded and then his thigh stroked.

 

“Has anyone ever told you, you have the most perfect little ass around?” Deadpool murmured huskily as his hand came back around the firm globe.

 

“Countless times,” Peter huffed and his voice had gone deep and dark too from arousal.

 

Rugged lips traveled back up and sharp teeth nipped at his jaws again.

 

“You just say stop, no need to hit me,” Deadpool murmured.

 

Peter felt his insides tighten and shudder and a throb travels down his body. That was the only warning he got before that large hand easily slid inside the rim of his pants and skillfully slid them down across his hips.

 

Peter shuddered and arched slightly as the friction made his groin throb even worse. He really jolted as the overly warm hand fisted his stiffening length. Wade made a deep chesty noise and kissed him again. The teen’s head spun erratically and his hips soon rocked into the friction. His hands quite being stationary and his fingers were mapping out every inch of the leather suit and the hard muscles hiding beneath.

 

He was panting hard into the kiss within a heartbeat. The friction inside that warm hand was mind-numbing. The rugged texture creating, even more, friction and the thumb was from time to time teasing his cock head in a most satisfying manner. Peter moaned and jolted his hips into the hand, wanting more, faster. It was building in his stomach and groin and spine and his thoughts were finally starting to die down a little in face of the pleasure.

 

His erection was released as the merc freed himself. The other hand nestled around his neck and head, fingers kneading as if wanting to fist hair. Peter shuddered in arousal and his hands were making wild tracks along the leather dressed straight sides. His sensitive fingers tracing the smooth and sometimes rugged texture of the leather and mapping the hard muscle or bone and sinew beneath.

 

Both their erections were suddenly grabbed and stroked together and Peter jolted and moaned. Wade groaned deeply and kissed him hard, almost bruising. The teen grabbed the merc’s hips and rocked up harshly. So good. A completely alien feeling but so good. An embarrassing high moan escaped Peter and his hands grabbed harder onto the man. He couldn’t reach their erections and the feeling of being unable to do so was also new and exciting.

 

They were both panting and groaning into the kiss. Barely kissing now, more just pressing their mouths messily together. Peter was tensing up. His entire torso tensing and hips arching. Close. The pleasure was racing across his nerves and making his eardrums deaf with the roar of his blood. He struggled to soften his hands, to try and relax. Scared to death he’d break bones once he did come.

 

“Don’t stop,” Wade growled against his mouth and broke the kiss to bite at his throat.

 

Peter wanted to tell him that was his line. Wade was the one bringing them off gloriously good. Peter made a whining moan and arched. One hand clutched the sofa beneath him and the other fisted against Deadpool's side. He came and a guttural groan escaped him as he did. It hit his head and lower spine and balls and the pleasure blinded him and made him deaf and he had a long glorious moment of pure bliss. He was sure he’d never come that hard in his life.

 

He wasn’t even aware of the merc’s own orgasm, only that it was really warm and really sticky between them as they were both panting and shuddering. It had been too long since he’d been touched. He was exhausted. It hit him like a sledgehammer across the head. His hands slowly relaxed and he felt a slight tremble in his muscles. His breathing was still labored. Deadpool was shifting around and gliding down. The hot mouth kissed and licked around his chest and the large sticky hand caressed his hip and rubbed a thumb over his hipbone.

 

Peter honest to god jolted as a hot tongue licked straight across his tummy, way, way, way too close to his spent member. It tingled and twitched in reaction to something hot and wet that close to it. Wade licked him across his tummy again and Peter then realized what he must be doing.

 

“Stop it,” he protested in a garbled, hoarse voice and managed to make a lethargic hand push slightly against the man’s head.

 

His hand was caught and as Wade chuckled; hot breath puffed against the wet trail. Peter tensed and shivers ran through him at the sensation.

 

“Stop what exactly?”

 

“It’s… disgusting,” Peter growled and could feel the heat intensify in his cheeks.

 

It wasn’t. Really. He was just really embarrassed about it. His hand was held down and the warm, wet tongue licked him again. Way too close to that sensitive anatomy. Peter tensed up as his groin twitched and the small of his back tensed up again.

 

“Nah, it’s really sweet, besides, it’s this or the shower and if you take the shower I’m joining.”

 

“You’re not,” Peter growled but he really had little energy to argue.

 

He shuddered and jolted as that tongue swiped even closer. His other hand reflexively grabbed the leather dressed head.

 

“Just get a towel,” he growled and squirmed.

 

His other hand was also caught and kept down in the sofa. It was rather silly since if he wanted he could squirm free. It was still making him tingling. He gasped as the mercenary suddenly swallowed him whole. It was way too sudden and his hips bucked forcefully. Gwen would have choked despite the half flaccid state, but Wade simply swallowed him to the base. Peter moaned and strained into the wet mouth. His heart beat crazily and the rush of blood and pleasure made him lightheaded.

 

He struggled to relax but as Wade hummed and bobbed his head, an immature moan escaped Peter and the teen arched again. Good God. There was no chance of gathering himself again. The merc hummed and moved and as he withdrew his tongue started doing things around the tip of the length. Peter made another immature moan and bucked violently once before he managed to restrain himself and simply squirm in pleasurable torment.

 

One hand was released and Wade stroked his tummy and up across his chest. Hard and rhythmically, almost soothing. Peter moaned and jerked again. He dug his hands down in the sofa to stop himself from gripping anything else and risk breaking it. Deadpool's free hand slid down along his thigh and stroked the back of it up until he kneaded Peter's buttock. The teen should protest, he was sure. They just came. He was tired. He was sure he'd been tired just moments ago. Yet he was raging hard in the sloppy wet, warm mouth and he really was not thinking straight with heat like that enveloping him.

 

The hand pressed hard against his chest, fingers rubbing a hard nipple. Peter moaned and jerked as he was deep-throated again. The pleasure was thrumming down through his body and centered in every inch of his hard length. He was not delirious enough that he didn't notice the saliva-wet fingers rubbing behind his balls. He jerked in sharp reflex as the fingers rubbed across his hole. It was disturbing. Unusual and sensitive and a weird sort of throb traveled through his body together with a nip of fear.

 

"strophe..!" Peter garbled as a hand flailed towards a wide shoulder in a futile attempt to grab the hand.

 

Wade withdrew with a wet pop and Peter made a moan that sounded almost like a whimper as his hips strained to thrust back into the wet heat.

 

"Too fast?" the merc asked and his voice was completely distorted. Dark and husky and intense. Even more so as the fingers kept rubbing wetly against the tight pucker and he bit at Peter's thigh.

 

"Nhn, yes!" the teen hissed in a hoarse voice and he jolted as he was bitten.

 

He was so turned on he was on the edge of pleading for the man to continue. Don't stop. God, don't stop. He was struggling to gather himself. The little knot of fear in his belly helped. He realized he was not ready for *that* part yet. That sinful tongue flattened against his throbbing cockhead and Peter moaned and strained his hips into it. The fingers kept rubbing and it sent little tight shivers across his skin. A sort of cold sweat but also just an extreme tightening of his muscles.

 

"Just fingers baby boy, trust me, I'll rock your world," the merc hummed in erotic promise.

 

Peter groaned as he was slowly deep-throated again. Just fingers? He wasn't even sure about that! He strained his hips as the merc bobbed expertly on his length. Saliva was making a mess of his balls and the fingers were spreading it all around. His hand was stuck to the broad shoulder and he wasn't really thinking about how the tip dug into the muscle.

 

The brunet gasped and jolted sharply as one finger rubbed and rubbed and suddenly slid inside. He tensed so hard his cock jolted in the man's mouth. A cold sweat rushed across his body and a wildfire of pleasure and discomfort assaulted him. Stop. He should stop. He wasn't ready. A noise escaped him as the finger pushed knuckle deep and didn't move. Only that god damn skillful mouth kept tormenting him and Peter was panting so hard already.

 

Then the finger did move. It wiggled and stroked something and Peter jolted and kicked in reaction, a surprised gasp/moan bursting from him. He'd heard of that g-spot, of course, he had. What self-respecting teenager with internet access hadn't? He'd never tried it though. He hadn't ever imagined it to actually be pleasurable or true.

 

His hips were rocking and weird little breathy moans were escaping him as Deadpool kept harassing him. Mouth. Finger. It rocked in him and the stretch and discomfort heightened the pleasure until he really was starting to lose his mind. He was tensing up and arching and helpless gasping noises escaped him. The finger was rocking in him, grating across that sensitive g-spot. He was coming.

 

"Coming," he warned in a garbled noise.

 

Wade still didn't withdraw, he only intensified. Mouth moving deep and rapid, the finger thrusting now and never missing that spot. Peter made a whimpering moan and squirmed. He couldn't. He was. A chesty groan slipped him as stars exploded in his vision. He was coming so hard he almost shook. His entire body tensing up. He turned completely numb with pleasure. It flashed through every nerve and left him raw and panting and disoriented.

 

The merc was sitting up and Peter's legs were spread around him. He was leaning over as he gripped harshly onto the armrest behind the teen's head. Low, guttural groans escaped him as he was jerking himself off furiously, erection pointed at Peter's stomach. Peter felt a sense of awe. Beautiful. Intimidating. Deadpool was big above him. He made Peter feel dwarfed. The merc groaned and shuddered as he came and splattered all over Peter's tummy and spent erection.

 

Peter was growing drowsy. Massively so. He struggled to stay out of the sleepy fog he was drifting towards. It was a losing battle though. Even more so as Deadpool backed off and magically seemed to find a blanket. He wrapped Peter in it like a cocoon.

 

"I'll get a towel," he said roughly.

 

Peter nodded. He was asleep before the merc came back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little story is done!
> 
> This is meant as a prequel but I also hope it can give you semi-closure while still being open enough to the main story. I have started to write the main story, as I said when introducing this fic.
> 
> However, I'm terrified of being unable to finish it. So until I get a bit further ahead and have a storyline worked out I'll hold off on publishing it.
> 
> If there's something I personally hate it's when a story is left unfinished. I hope to avoid that horror.  
> Please enjoy this for now and hope to publish soon again.


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